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1 



GLANCE AT NEW YORK 



EMBRACING 



THE CITY GOVERNMENT, 

THEATRES, HOTELS, CHURCHES, MOBS, MONOPOLIES, 

LEARNED PROFESSIONS, NEWSPAPERS, ROGUES, DANDIES, 

FIRES AND FIREMEN, WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS, 

&C. &C. 



./ 



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''-•''w^ 



The city swarms intense.— Thomson 



NEW-YORK: 
A. GREENE, 1 BEEKMAN STREET. 



1 8 3 7 .' 




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1837, 

By a. GREENE, 
in the Clerk's Office, ofthe Southern District of New- York. 






CRAIGHEAD & ALLEN, PRINTERS, 

]12Fuhon Street. 



CONTENTS: 

CHAPTER I. 

General Features, 

CHAPTER ir. 

A^opuiatjon, 

CHAPTER IV.' 
1 neatres, 

' • » 

CHAPTER V. 

^^nurches, 

* ' • . 

i CHAPTER VI 

Law, Physic, and Divinity, 

CHAPTER VII. 

■Kogues, 

* * • 

n» ^- CHAPTER vm. ' 

J-'andies, 

n. n ,. CHAPTER IX. 

Uog Police, 

CHAPTER X 

Mobs, 

Monopolies. ".^^^^^^ XL 



. 1 
. 11 

. 23 
. 35 

' 42 

. 52 

66 
78 
. 84 

93 

108 



116 
124 



155 

169 



\y CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. 
Magazines, . • • * * 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Newspapers, . • • * * 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Booksellers and Publishers, . • -143 

CHAPTER XV. 
City Government, , . • • 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Condition of the streets, 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Water and other Liquids, . • • '^'^^ 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Fires and Firemen, 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Public Squares, 

CHAPTER XX. 
Public Libraries, • • • 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Hoaxes, • • • • ' 

CHAPTER XXn. 
Hacks and Omnibuses, ... 24b 

CHAPTER XXIII 

Conclusion, . • • • • 



197 
211 
221 
233 



261 



PREFACE. 

It is related of a good woman, away Down 
East, that having made her hasty-pudding of 
Plaster of Paris, instead of meal, she fed her chil- 
dren with it, and put them to bed. In the morn- 
ing going to call them, she found them so chan<r- 
ed, both in shape and size, by the alterative pow- 
er of the plaster, that she did not know them 
again. 

With the philosophy of this surprising change 
we have nothing to do ; and we only relate the 
story as we heard it, just by way of introduction 
to a remark we have to make, namely : that the 
changes, taking place in every part of the United 
States, being confessedly such as to outstrip the 
rapidity of modern printing, no reader, it is sup- 
posed, can be so unreasonable as to expect that 
those facts, which have been written respecting 



VI PREFACE. 

the condition of an^ part of this country to-day 
shall come out of the press equally facts respect- 
ing its condition to-morrow. It should not sur- 
prise him, therefore, to find some little variance 
between Truth and Type in the following 
pages. But as we have collected the facts with a 
good deal of care, and given charge to our prin- 
ter to see them through the press with all conve- 
nient speed : so it is hoped that the variance will 
not occur in many things, nor turn out to be of 
very serious importance in any. 
New York, March 15, 1837, 



A 

GLANCE AT NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER I. 



GENERAL FEATURES. 



Various: 
That the mind of desultory man, 
Studious of change, and pleased with novelty, 
May be indulged. — Cowper. 

The Island of Manhattan, on which the 
city of New York is built, is about 15 miles in 
length, and about one and a quarter in mean 
breadth. It is bounded on the east by the 
East River, on the south by New York Bay, 
on the west by Hudson River, and on the 
north by Spuyten-Duyvel Creek and Harlem 
River. 

The face of the island was originally diver- 
sified into hill and valley, ledge and swamp ; 
1 



Z GENERAL FEATURES. 

and the more ancient parts of the city strll 
present very nearly the same uneven surface 
as in the olden time. But the levelling genius 
of our city government has reduced to an 
almost entire flat the more new and recently 
built parts of the town. They have said em- 
phatically, 

" Stoop down ye hills ! ye valleys rise !" 

Not more than a sixth part of the island is 
compactly covered with houses, stores, and 
paved streets. The rest is occupied with 
farms and gardens ; though the limits of the 
city comprise the whole island ; and the farm- 
ers and gardeners of the upper five-sixths are 
included in one of the wards of the city, are 
subject to the government of the mayor and 
corporation, and enjoy the same municipal 
privileges as their more crowded neighbors, 
who walk on paved streets, and are surround- 
ed with all the bustle of city life. 

The streets of the ancient parts of New 
York are narrow, crooked, and irregular — 
running into and crossing each other at all 



GENERAL FEATURES. O 

sorts of angles except a right angle. As a 
specimen of the narrow, the irregular and 
the crooked, Pearl Street may be taken — 
Pearl street, that great mart of business and 
principal scene of wholesale operations. The 
new parts of the city are more regularly laid 
out. The streets and avenues are broad and 
straight ; and the squares have generally right 
angles. 

Broadway is a noble street, 80 feet wide 
and st»'aight as an arrow, extending from the 
Battery northward nearly two miles, and 
uniting with the fifth avenue. Colonel Ham- 
ilton in his " Men and Manners," informs us 
that the sides of this street " are skirted by a 
row of stunted and miserable looking poplars, 
useless either for shade or ornament, which 
breaks the unity of the street without com- 
pensation of any sort." Other travellers will 
probably not be so keen-sighted as the gallant 
Colonel : for if they travel the whole length 
of Broadway, they will scarcely find a dozen 
poplars in the entire distance. In fact there 
are very few trees of any kind ; and most of 



4 GENERAL FEATURES. 

those are of that species variously denominat- 
ed the plane, sycamore, or button-wood tree. 
But broad as Broadway is, and exceedingly 
broad as it was doubtless thought by our fa- 
thers and grandfathers, it is now quite too 
narrow for the immense travel, business, and 
locomotion of various kinds, of which it is the 
constant scene. This is particularly the case 
with that part below Canal-street ; and more 
particularly so south of the Park. Here the 
attempt at crossing is almost as much as your 
life is worth. To perform the feat with any 
degree of safety, you must button your coat 
tight about you, see that your shoes are se- 
cure at the heels, settle your hat firmly on 
your head, look up street and down street, at 
the self-same moment, to see what carts and 
carriages are upon you, and then run for your 
life. We daily see persons waiting at the 
crossing places, for some minutes, before they 
can find an opening, and a chance to get over, 
between the omnibuses, coaches, and other 
vehicles, that are constantly dashing up and 
down the street ; and, after waiting thus long. 



GENERAL FEATURES. O 

deem themselves exceedingly fortunate if they 
get over with sound bones and a whole skin. 

Another great thoroughfare is the Bowery. 
But this street is wider than Broadway ; and 
as fewer people pass therein, either in the 
way of business or pleasure, it is not so much 
crowded, and there is not the same difficulty 
and danger in crossing it. 

Most of the houses in New York are built 
of brick ; and are in height from two to six 
stories. A few of the old wooden buildings 
remain ; and a few of the more new and ele- 
gant structures are of stone. At least they 
appear to be stone ; though few of them, we 
believe, have the entire fabric, or the solid 
walls of that durable material. For instance, 
the Astor House, which seems to the eve a 
structure of pure granite, is merely covered 
with slabs of that material, while the princi- 
pal thickness of the entire outer wall, and all 
the partition walls, are of brick. Another 
instance of the same " outward adorning" 
may be seen in Holt's large house, near the 

Fulton Ferry. The outside is of very good 
1* 



b GENERAL FEATURES. 

marble, to the depth of three or four inches, 
while the inside, like that of its great rival, is 
entirely of brick. But the granite slabs of 
the Astor House, we believe, are about twice 
the thickness of the marble ones of Holt's. 
Both, so far as we know, are sound, solid, and 
safe structures. 

Each of these buildings appears in itself, of 
a uniform and excellent material, and betrays 
not, by any outward appearance, the diversity 
of its composition. The same cannot be said 
of all those buildings in which granite or mar- 
ble forms a part of the material. They pre- 
sent a front of very beautiful stone, while the 
gable end is exposed in all the nakedness of 
bare bricks. Such are several of the houses 
in Broadway ; and such is that pretty row of 
new buildings composing Lafayette Place. 
You admire the marble front and Corinthian 
columns ; and dream not, until you cast your 
eyes to the ends or the rear, that . tlie entire 
block is not of solid marble. 

Though these outward coverings and fronts 
of stone are not just the thing which a people 



GENERAL FEATURES. / 

of pure taste and honest purpose should ahn 
at ; still they are to be welcomed, on the 
principle that " half a loaf is better than no 
bread ;" or that a dickey and collar are better 
than no signs of a shirt. They are at least 
an improvement in appearance, and perhaps 
give indication that greater wealth and grow- 
ing taste will by and by introduce walls of 
solid stone, in room of the combination of 
brick and slabs. 

Granite pillars in front of the stores are of 
recent introduction. Five or six years ago 
there were scarcely a dozen of such fronts 
in all New York. Now every new store is 
built with granite columns, as high as the first 
story ; and some of them higher. But the new 
stores are not the only recipients of these im- 
provements. The brick walls are knocked 
away from the fronts of many of the old ones, 
and granite pillars inserted. 

But if these pillars improve the appearance 
of the buildings, they do not tend in the least 
to increase their strength. On the contrary, 
they add much to the danger of their falling ; 



8 GENERAL FEATURES. 

especially if the structure be on the corner of 
a block, and have pillars on more than one 
side. All the modern structures of New- 
York are built sufficiently slight ; and, like 
the child's cob-house, are but too ready, ele- 
vated as they are, to totter and fall. Imagine 
then the cobs of the child's ambitious but 
feeble structure, to be set endwise as high as 
the first stor}!, and you have an idea how much 
more likely it is to fall to the ground, than in 
the primitive method of placing them in a 
horizontal position. 

Of the effects of slight building in this city, 
we had a melancholy instance in the year '32, 
in the fall of ihe large store of Phelps & Peck, 
at the corner of Fulton and Cliff streets ; 
when four or five persons were crushed to 
death beneath its ruins ; and among them 
that accomplished accountant and worthy 
man, Thomas H. Goddard. 

About the same time — or a little after — an 
accident of a different description, and indeed 
of rather a ludicrous nature, is reported to 
have happened in Bleecker street, in conse- 



GENERAL FEATURES. 9 

quence of the slight texture of the wall which 
separated two adjoining houses. One, as the 
story ran, was occupied by an ancient maiden 
lady, and the other by a bachelor on the wrong 
side of forty — neither of whom was particu- 
larly fond of the society of the other sex. 
The bachelor was taking his ease one eve- 
ning in his slippers, and, yankee-like, leaning 
back in his chair against the wall. About the 
same time, it happened that the ancient maiden 
had just doffed her slippers and was in the act 
of putting on her nightcap. The bachelor — 
certainly without any malice prepense, be- 
cause he was not aware of the weakness of 
the wall, nor had he any idea who was his 
neighbor — happened just at that time, to lean 
back a little harder than usual, when — in the 
twinkling of an eye, and without any previous 
warning — he found himself in his fair neigh- 
bor's apartment, with his back on the floor and 
his heels in the air, in consequence of the wall 
giving way. 

If he was surprised, so was the lady. She 
screamed and fall, very properly, into fits. 



10 GENERAL FEATURES. 

But before taking this last decisive step, she 
demanded of the bachelor, in very peremptory 
terms, what he wanted in her room. As he 
desired nothing in the world so much as to get 
out again, this question was soon answered, 
and in a very practical manner, by his imme- 
diate retreat to his own side of the wall. The 
breach between him and the old maid was 
closed up as soon as a bricklayer could be 
obtained ; and from that time until the end of 
the year, when both parties removed to more 
secure lodgings, the bachelor never ventured 
to indulge again in the luxury of leaning 
against the wall.* 

* That we might not be wanting in instances of the 
slightness of modern structures in New York, three build- 
ings have fallen since the above was in type. Two were 
brick stores in Fulton street, with granite pillars as high as 
the first story. The other was a very large marble building 
(so called,) in WaU street, belonging to Messrs. Josephs. 
Like other buildings professing to be of stone, it was merely 
covered with slabs of that material, which being set up edge- 
wise— and not fastened to the bricks, added little or nothing 
to its strength. Fortunately none of these buildings were 
quite finished. Had they been so, in all probability their 
tenants, in greater or less numbers, would have been buried 
beneath the ruins. 



CHAPTER IL 

POPULATION. 

" I was ever of opinion that the honest man, who married 
and brought up a large fanrily, did more service than he 
who contmued single, and only talked of population." 

Vicar ojf Wakefield. 

Judging from the present well peopled state 
of this citj, one would not think that the fath- 
ers thereof had differed very materially in sen- 
timent from the worthy Dr. Primrose. But 
who are the fathers thereof? We do not ask 
who are the members of the Common Coun- 
cil-God bless them ! Though they are cal- 
ed "the fathers of the city," we have not the 
least Idea that they are so, except in so far as 
Ihey are obliged, by virtue of their office, to 
father its numerous sins, both of omission and 
commission. 

No; the "fathers according to the flesh" 
ot our numerous population are to be looked 



•12 POPULATION. 

for beyond the bounds of New York ; nay, 
beyond the bounds of the United States. 
Their parentage is in every nation under 
heaven : in Ireland, in Scotland, in England, 
in France, in Spain, in Germany, in Russia, 
in East India, in China, in South America, 
and in the Islands of Polynesia. Of foreign 
birth Ireland has given us the largest number 
—probably more than all other countries put 

to"-ether. Her sons— judS'ng ^f""" *^ *°''' 
sands of paddies who are annually landed 
upon our shores-have very evidently not 
" continued single and only talked of popu- 
lation." , 

The inhabitants of New York, as we have 
just hinted, derive their origin from every part 
of the world. They exhibit a sort of human 
patch-work, in which the materials are brought 
together from all quarters; and, as might be 
expected, the whole piece is most strange- 
ly and curiously diversified. Here is the 
shrewd Yankee ; the cool and twice-thinkmg 
Scotchman ; the warm and never-thmking 
Irishman ; the mercurial and light-hearted 
Frenchman ; the grave Spaniard ; the roman- 



POPULATION. 13 

tic German ; the thoughtless African ; in short, 
the natives, and the descendants of the natives, 
of every nation, and kindred, and tongue on 
the face of the earth. 

As yet the groundwork of this variously 
patched piece may be seen — though in fainter 
and fainter colors — in the descendants of the 
ancient Dutch population. In a few years 
more this will fade away entirely. The influx 
of emigrants from New England and Europe 
will overspread and characterize the whole. 
In the active business of the place the Yankees 
are taking, and will take, the lead. Where 
headwork is to be done the Yankees will do it. 
The manual operatives will be, as they are 
becoming more and more, the natives of the 
Emerald Isle. While the name of the Knick- 
erbockers will go out and vanish into thin air, 
like a whifF of smoke from the pipe of Wouter 
Van Twiller, their first governor, and the most 
ancient chief magistrate of this great city. 

Their name will go out, did we say ? No ! 
thanks to Diedrich Knickerbocker ! the learned 
and indefatigable historian of New York, the 
name, the fame, the credit, and the deeds of 



14 POPULATION^. 

renown, of the ancient Dutch settlers will 
never die. Admirable Diedrich ! Philosophi- 
cal Diedrich ! Most learned Diedrich ! Thy 
" History of New York from the beginning of 
the world to the end of the Dutch Dynasty,"^ 
contains good and excellent matter enough ta 
immortalize the inhabitants of any hundred 
cities that ever existed. 

But I am on the point of digressing. My 
design was — when I began this chapter — to 
speak of the population of New York, and of 
its increase from period to period, unto the 
present date. 

The growth of New York was at first very 
slow — much slower than any person, who 
now looks on the cities of the west, and be- 
holds a populous town spring up almost in a 
day, could possibly imagine. Whether the 
early Dutch settlers and their goede vrouws 
" only talked of population," or whether they 
found their chief pleasure and employment in 
smoking, or whether they had still other mat- 
ters of more serious import to attend to : one 
thing is pretty certain, viz ; that the popula- 



POPULATION. 15 

tion of New York in the year 1696, some- 
where about 75 years after its first settlement, 
had only reached the small number of 4302. 
In 60 years after, namely in 1756, it had only 
got as high as 10,381. And up to the year 
1786, three years after the evacuation of the 
city by the British, the number of inhabitants 
was only 23,614. 

After that period the population increased 
more rapidly, insomuch that in four years af- 
terwards, namely in 1790, it had reached 33, 
131. In 1800, it was 60,489 ; in 1810—96, 
303; in 1820—123,706; in 1825— 166,086 ; 
in 1830 — 202,589; in 1835— -270,089. 
Allowing the ratio of increase for the last two 
years to be the same as that for the five years 
previous, viz. six per cent per annum, and 
the present population of New York is about 
300,000. At the same rate of increase, by 
the year 1840 it will have reached 350,000 ; 
in the year 1850 it will be 560,000 ; in 1860 
it will be 896,000; in 1870— 1,433,000 ; in 
1880—2,392,000, which will far exceed the 
present population of London. In short, aU 



16 POPULATION. 

lowing the increase to be six per cent per 
annum, or sixty per cent for each ten years, 
the population of New York will, at the close 
of the present century, have reached the enor- 
mous amount of six millions. 

Such a goodly increase — or perhaps we 
should rather say, such a frightful increase — 
many accidents may happen to prevent. 
Though there may be many Dr. Primroses, 
who will not think they have discharged their 
duty to society by merely talking of popula- 
tion, nevertheless there may be many circum- 
stances, over which they can have no control, 
which will effectually prevent those results 
that would be likely to follow from the indul- 
gence of such patriotic sentiments and de- 
signs. 

There may happen the sword, the pestilence, 
and the famine. Such things have happened, 
to mar the growth of other cities ; and they 
may happen, in the progress of events, to stay, 
or effectually to check, that of this rising me- 
tropolis. From present appearances, indeed* 
the sword is not likely to lay waste our city. 



POPULATION. 17 

From pestilence we are, perhaps, more in 
clanger. But that may, or may not, happen 
according as it pleases God and the cleanly 
habits of our worthy corporation. From fa- 
mine — looking at the present, and probable 
future, state of things — we are more in danger 
than from either war or pestilence. The in- 
crease in the price of provisions, within the 
last two years, has been frightful in the ex- 
treme — not less, on an average, we are in- 
formed, than 33 per cent. 

House-rent and the price of fuel have 
equally increased : so that it is next to im- 
possible for a man, on a moderate income, to 
support a wife and children. If he lent a 
house, it takes all his income to pay his land- 
lord, and he has nothing left wherewith to 
purchase food, clothing, and fuel. Or, if he 
provide himself with these latter articles, he 
has nothing left wherewith to pay his rent. 
So that in either event he is pretty sure to suf- 
fer destitution. 

To show the difference in the prices of 

sundry articles now, and at a period not 

2* 



18 



POPULATION. 



beyond the memory of some persons still li- 
ving — say a little more than seventy years ago 
— we will place side by side the cost of the 
articles at that period and the present. For 
the former we are indebted to Watson's 



Prices in 1773. 


X Ulli 


Ditto 


IN 1837. 


s 


d 




s d 


Best Oysters per hundred, 1 
Beef per pound, - 
Fowls each, 


3a4 
9 


Do. 
Do. 
Do. 


- 20 

- lal 6 

- 2a3 


A cock Turkey, - - 4 
A hen Turkey, - - 2 
A Goose, - - - 2 




Do. 
Do. 
Do. 


- 16 

- 12 

- 12 


A Duck, . - - 1 




Do. 


4 


Butter per pound. 

Oak wood per load, - 2 


9 


Do. 
Do. 


- 2 6 

- 20 



Such an increase in the expense of living, if 
it do not cause absolute famine — if it do not 
render it impossible for a large share of the 
people to provide themselves with the necessa- 
ries of life— will at least afford such discourage- 
ments — will offer such a frightful obstacle — 
to the dwellers in New York, that they will 
rery naturally turn their backs upon the city 



POPULATION. 19 

and seek a residence elsewhere. This will 
check the growth of its population ; though, 
as to the strict question of famine, the good 
sense of one part of the people will probably 
not allow them to remain in a place where 
they are in danger of starvation ; and the 
christian charity of their neighbors will not 
quite permit them to come to that direful end. 
But if the population be not absolutely 
checked by starvation, so neither, on the 
other hand, will it increase so much as afore-, 
time by early marriages ; or, indeed, by any 
marriages whatever. Bachelors will postpone 
the happy hour, until they acquire the where- 
withal for supporting a family ; which many 
of them will never be able to do: and of 
course their pride and prudence will make 
them continue single all their lives. But 
should they be so fortunate as ever to acquire 
the means of maintaining a family, it will, in 
many instances, be so late in life that they will 
have lost all taste for matrimony ; and, finally 
conclude they may as well close their lives in 



20 POPULATION. 

single blessedness. While those who do ven- 
ture upon taking them wives, will mostly marry 
women who are no longer young, that they 
may not be blessed in their old age with the 
delights of a family of young children. 

Every year doth celibacy more and more in- 
crease in New York. Every year are the bach- 
elors of this most expensive city less and less in- 
clined to enter into the holy, but most inconve- 
nient state of matrimony. Time was, and that 
, but a few years since, when the beauties attend- 
ing the annual Bachelors' Ball on St. Valen- 
tine's da}^ could draw off, at one haul, a score 
of the votaries of celibacy to make trial of 
the joys of wedded life : as the gazettes, there- 
after and thereupon, bore ample testimony 
under their hymeneal heads, as well also as in 
acknowledgments for wedding cake, officially 
received on those interesting occasions. But 
now, alas ! we hear little of the once fa- 
mous Bachelors' Ball, and less still of the glo- 
rious family results which used to flow from 
it. Not all the eloquence of all the Slocums 



POPULATION. 21 

and McClures,* with all their legislative ac- 
tivity, we fear, can prevent the growth of celi- 
bacy in New York. 

But whatsoever, and how great soever, 
checks, may ultimately happen to the increase 
of population, they are not likely to operate 
with much efficiency, for many years to come. 
So happily is New York situated for com- 
merce, such an extent of territory has she on 
the island as yet unfilled with population, so 
great is the enterprize of her citizens, and 
such is the increasing tide of immigration, 

* Daddy Slocum so called out of respect to his venerable 
age — a member of the Massachusetts legislature, attempted 
a few years since to procure, the enactment of a law to 
force bachelors to consult their own happiness. He failed. 
The like exploit was attempted, and with the like success, 
in the legislature of New Vork, by General McClure, the 
hero of the conflagration of Newark. It was reported of 
the last, that the great number of letters he received from 
the bachelors in every part of the state, by way of remon- 
strance, while the motion was pending for the enforcement 
of their happiness, cost him more in paying the postage, 
than all his legislative fees amounted to. So insensible 
were the single gentlemen of the great value of the favor 
intended them ! 



22 POPULATION. 

that she can scarcely fail to continue, for 
many years, her rapid growth, be the expenses 
of living and the inconveniences of her crowd- 
ed population as great as they will. 

The increase, down to the close of the pre- 
sent century, will probably continue with very 
little abatement, what it has been from the 
commencement of the same century to the 
present time : and we have very little doubt 
that many persons are now born, who will live 
to see a population in New York of not less 
than three millions. 



CHAPTER III. 



HOTELS. 



♦< Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn ?'^ — Falstaff^ 

*' Wife. Heigho ! I wish I was in heaven. 

Husband. I wish to heaven you were, and I was at the 
tavern. 

Wife. Ah ! you old rogue, you ! you always want the' 
best place." — Joseph Miller. 

Without pretending to adopt the sentiment^ 
expressed with such singular unanimity by the 
amiable pair, in the above quotation, namely,, 
that a hotel is to be preferred to heaven itself, 
we are nevertheless constrained to admit that 
it would be exceedingly difficult, in a great 
city, to do without that sort of convenience. 
In patriarchal times, the way-worn and 
hungry traveller was cordially pressed — nay, 
constrained — to enter in and eat bread, and 
accept of lodgings — and that without any sign 
hung out, with " Entertainment for Man and 



24 HOTELS. 

Horse." The Virginia and Carolina planters 
hold out a like hospitality to the traveller. All 
is afforded "without money and without price." 
The planter thinks himself sufficiently paid by 
your good company, and would scorn the idea 
of bartering his hospitality for gold, silver, or 
bank bills. The Yankee is not precisely so 
squeamish on the score of taking pay ; and 
the New England farmers have always a spare 
bed and a meal of victuals at your disposal, 
when you cannot conveniently get entertain- 
ment at a hotel. They ask you nothing, 
indeed ; but then they do not consider it an 
insult to be offered money. What is offered — 
at least to a moderate amount — they will gene- 
rally accept. But, money or no money, the 
New England farmer will never refuse a lodg- 
ing and the best his table affords, to a stranger 
who cannot elsewhere be better accommo- 
dated. 

But in New York, as well as in all other 
cities, hospitality, or any thing resembling it, 
is unknown. And this is the result, not of 
any native churlishness or want of fellow feel- 



HOTELS. 25 

ing ; but simply of the particular circum- 
stances, the peculiar social condition, of the 
inhabitants of cities. " What is every body's 
business is nobody's." The citizens live too 
close together, too crowded, to allow room for 
hospitality. The scattered condition of people 
living on farms and plantations renders them 
hospitable. Bring the southerner to New York 
— make him a citizen of this great metropolis — 
and he would no more entertain strangers than 
Mr. John Smith, or any of the other thousands 
of our citizens who keep house, and whose 
names figure in the Directory. 

Hotels, in a city like this, being confessedly 
articles of great convenience, if not of "dire 
necessity," we could hardly do less than de- 
vote an entire chapter to their consideration. 
The number of hotels in New York is exceed- 
ingly limited when we consider the size and 
business of the place, and the great number 
of strangers to be accommodated. There are 
not in all, we believe — or at least all that de- 
serve the name of hotels — much above thirty. 
There are, indeed, hundreds of places where 
3 



26 HOTELS. 

spirituous liquors are sold, and which perhaps 
are designated, in flaming characters over the 
door, as " hotels." There are other places 
again, of great respectability, where good eat- 
ing is to be had, and which are generally de- 
nominated " refectories." But of public 
houses, where meat and lodging are furnished, 
in genteel, respectable, or decent style, there 
are not, as we have just said, much above 
thirty. 

This, for a population of 300,000, and 20,- 
000 strangers who are frequently in the city 
at a time, we repeat, is a very small number. 
If we allow them, on an average, to accom- 
modate 200 persons apiece, — which we be- 
lieve is a sufficiently liberal allowance — there 
are only 6000 of the 20,000 strangers pro- 
vided for ; to say nothing of the citizens, who, 
in great numbers, both married and single, 
both clerks and business men, and men of no 
business, occupy a room and a seat at the 
board of some one of the hotels. 

The boarding houses, of which there are 
many of great respectability in different parts 



HOTELS. 27 

of the city, accommodate a pretty large num- 
ber of strangers. But, after all, we do not 
see where all of them find the conveniences 
of bed and board. Meat they may find at 
the eating houses, and that at all hours, and 
whenever they are hungry. For lodgings they 
must do as heaven pleases. If they find ac- 
commodations, as doubtless they must some- 
where, we confess our utter ignorance of the 
whereabouts. It is an old story^ — that of the 
man who lodged in the Park, and caught cold 
by the watchmen leaving the gate open. But, 
if we recollect aright, he was a citizen loafer, 
and not a stranger. 

That persons from abroad are often straight- 
ened for a lodging, we see exemplified every 
spring and fall, when the city is most amply 
filled with strangers. They arrive in great 
numbers by the steamboats. They order 
their baggage to be carried, each one, to such 
or such a hotel; "We are full," says the land- 
lord, " The mischief you are !" says the 
stranger ; " but hav'nt you some snug little 
corner you can stow me into ? You know I 



28 HOTELS. 

always put up with you." — " I know you do," 
says the landlord, " and I am very sorry that 
I can't accommodate you now. But I'm full 
from cellar to garret. There is not room 
enough to get in a shad edgeways." 

The stranger orders his baggage to be car- 
ried to another hotel. He finds the other 
hotel in the same predicament as the first — 
crowded to suffocation — or, at any rate, so 
crowded that he cannot get in. He orders 
Sambo to shoulder the baggage once more, 
and to follow him to another house of enter- 
tainment — which he finds, in like manner, has 
no entertainment for him. 

Thus do we often see the poor stranger 
trudging from house to house, and everywhere 
denied admittance. How he finds himself 
accommodated at last, we know not. But 
the reader may very well conclude, from all 
we have said, that the number of hotels and 
the amount of accommodation for strangers 
are very unequal to the demand. 

The consequence is, that the keepers of 



HOTELS. 29 

hotels, are enabled to charge for their accom- 
modations whatever sums they please. A- 
bout two years ago — though they had pre- 
viously been doing an excellent business — 
they, by a simultaneous movement, raised their 
prices thirty-three and a third per cent. 

But as the gentility of the house is alwa3^s 
estimated by the extravagance of its charges, 
and as the strife of gentility is somewhat pre- 
valent in our growing country, so those hotels 
which lay on the largest price, are pretty cer- 
tain to be thoroughly filled. 

In speaking of the high price of board and 
lodging in the New York hotels, we would not 
be thought to accuse the keepers of a greater 
lack of conscience than most other people of 
their own country and time. They ask a 
good price because they know they can get it • 
and that those, who want accommodations, 
must either pay it, or go without them. It is 
" human natur," as Stapleton says. 

Then, as we have before stated, the price 
of provisions is enormously high. Rent is 
3* 



30 HOTELS. 

enormously high. And it would be expecting 
more, than any man acquainted with "human 
natur," especially with tavern-keepers' " na- 
tur" — ought to expect of them, that they 
should charge a moderate price for their ac- 
commodations. 

All, or nearly all these hotels are situated 
in the southerly part of the city, and most of 
them in the three lower wards. There they 
are convenient to the steamboat landings, and 
also to the business operations of the city. 
Nearly half of the whole number are situated 
in Broadway ; and these, with two or three 
exceptions, no further north than the Park. 

The principal hotels in New York are the 
following, namely: In Broadway, commen- 
cing at the Battery, the Atlantic Hotel, Sey- 
mour &Anderson ; Mansion house. Bunker ; 
Globe Hotel, Blanchard ; Varick House, Bean ; 
City Hotel, Cruttenden & Mather ; National 
Hotel, Carr ; Congress Hall, Mrs. Sherman; 
Southern Hotel, Otter ; T'ranklin House, 
Hayes ; Astor House, Boyden & Son ; Ame- 
rican Hotel, Milford ; Washington Hotel, 



HOTELS. 31 

Ward; Athenaeum, Windust : In Cortland^ 
street, commencing at the Ferry, Northern 
Hotel, Harrison ; Orange County House, 
Dunning ; Otsego House, Van Pelt ; Wes- 
tern Hotel, Brown ; York House, Williston : 
Greenwich street. Pacific Hotel, Nichols & 
Jessup : Broad street. Exchange Hotel, How- 
ard : Pearl street, the Pearl Street House, 
Flint ; Eastern Pearl Street House, Foster : 
Fulton street, Holt's Hotel : Beekman street, 
Clinton Hotel, Hodges & Son : Bowery, 
North American Hotel, Bartlett : Park Row, 
Lovejoy's Hotel ; Nassau street, Tammany 
Hall, Lovejoy & Howard; Custom House 
Hotel, Horn. 

The three last are kept on the " European 
plan," or in the English mode, of separating 
the two important concerns of bed and board. 
In taking the first, you are under no obliga- 
tions to take the last. You consult your own 
convenience both as to time and place. You 
may eat at your landlord's, if you please, and 
you may order what you please ; but this has 
no connection with your bill for lodging, and 



32 HOTELS. 

you pay down on the nail for what you have 
eaten. This plan has been only introduced 
here within five or six years. 

The other hotels are kept on the old plan. 
A long table — or what is called in France a 
table (Thote — is furnished daily, at a certain 
hour, which, in most of the houses, is 3 o'clock. 
A few, out of Broadway, dine at 2; and some 
of those in Broadway — ^such as the Astor 
House, the American, and perhaps some 
others, set an extra table at 5, for the accom- 
modation of foreigners, or such aspiring 
Americans as are anxious to prove their aris- 
tocracy by going hungry to that late hour. 

The table d'hote is more sociable than the 
refectory. At the latter you discuss your 
beefsteak, your chicken, or whatever you 
have ordered, alone, and with plenty of elbow 
room. At the former you eat in company 
with one or two hundred, to the music of as 
many knives and forks, and usually so crowd- 
ed together that your elbows are pinned down 
to your sides like the wings of a trussed fowl. 
But, besides the greater sociability of eating 



HOTELS. 33 

in a crowd, there is another advantage, par- 
ticularly to an irresolute or absent minded man, 
in dining at the table d'hote — it saves him the 
necessity of studying the particular dish he 
would prefer, since every thing is spread out 
to his eye, and the laborious effort, either of 
thinking or of memory, is not required in 
making the choice. We are acquainted with 
a man of science, who thinks this a most 
important item in favor of the table d'hote 
over the refectory. In point of elbow room, in 
command of time, and in cheapness, if a man 
so chooses, the latter has decidedly the ad- 
vantage. 

The price of lodging per week, at the Cus- 
tom House Hotel, is $2,50. At Tammany 
Hall and at Lovejoy's it varies from $2,50 to 
$3,50, according as your room is situated, up 
one or more pair of stairs — the price being 
lower, the nearer you approach heaven ; and 
higher, the closer you cling to earth. In the 
eating department of these houses, the price 
of a meal consisting of one dish, varies from 
12J to 3U cents. 



34 HOTELS. 

In the hotels on the old plan the price of 
bed and board, per day, varies from $1,50 to 
$2,50. The latter is the price at the Astor 
House. The other houses in Broadway, for 
the most part, if not all, charge $2,00. The 
Clinton Hotel does the same. In the other 
streets, from $1,50 to $1,75 is the price. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THEATRES* 

"Much ado about nothing." — ShaKspiare. 
"A very frampold life." — Ibid. 

Next to the hotels, the prime sources of en- 
tertainment are the theatres. Some persons 
make them the first, and postpone the subject 
of eating, drinking, and lodging, to the more 
alluring one of theatricals. But most people 
are prudent enough first to " take thought for 
the morrow, what they shall eat and what 
they shall drink," and whereon they shall 
sleep, before they devote themselves to theat- 
rical entertainments. 

We would not have the reader infer from 
this, that they first pay — or provide the ways 
and means for paying — for the necessaries of 
life. That is, with many o( them, an after- 
thought — a thing to be attended to at their 



36 THEATRES. 

perfect convenience ; or, what is more con- 
venient still, not to be attended to at all. But 
at the theatres there is no trust. The system 
of credit is unknown. Tickets cannot be 
had " on tick." The ready cash, therefore, 
is necessary for the manager, let the landlord 
or the landlady come off as they will. The 
latter as well as the former, we arc charitable 
enough to hope, are in a majority of instances, 
paid. 

JNIost persons who come to the city, or who 
reside here, at some time or other attend the 
theatre ; unless they are restrained by religious 
scruples. All strictly religious persons, of 
course, abstain. Besides these, there are a 
good many others, not strictly religious, who 
are seldom or never seen at the theatres, 
because they either care little or nothing for a 
play; because they think they can amuse them, 
selves better in some other mode ; because 
they deem theatricals immoral ; or because 
they cannot conscientiously bestow ^money 
on mere matters of amusement of any kind, 
while they have families to maintain, children 



THEATRES. 37 

to educate, or other concerns of decided im- 
portance, which have an unquestionable de- 
mand upon their purse. 

But there are others — -and the number is 
pretty large — who seem to think of little else 
in the world but theatricals. They attend 
the theatres every night. They talk of the 
theatres every day. They criticise, they 
spout, they hum snatches of songs, they de- 
bate on the merits of their favorite actors or 
actresses, they eulogize the beauty, the grace, 
the tenderness of Miss such a one, they pro- 
claim aloud the vigor, the pathos, the startling 
force, and effective points of Mr. such a one. 
Theatricals are never out of their thoughts, 
and rarely out of their mouths. They seem 
to have found in Plays what the Platonists 
were looking for — the summum bonum — the 
greatest good. They use them as Boniface did 
his ale : they eat, drink, and sleepupon them. 
At least they dream of them when asleep, and 
have them constantly in their mouths when 
awake. 

4 



38 THEATRES. 

There are supposed to be, on an average, 
about 5000 persons nightly attendmg the dif- 
ferent theatres in New York. Of these, 
nearly, or quite, one half are strangers. 
Hence the theatres are always best filled dur- 
ing the spring and autumn, when there are 
most country merchants, and other persons 
from abroad, in the city. 

The number of theatres in all is five. Of 
these the most ancient is the Park, situated in 
Park Row, and facing the southern part of 
the enclosure called the Park. It was first 
built in the year 1797, just forty years since, 
and just forty-four after the building of the 
first theatre in this city, which Dunlap informs 
us, was in Nassau street, where the old Dutch 
Church now stands. 

The Park Theatre was burnt in 1820. 
The next year it was rebuilt, and reopened, 
with a prize address from Mr. Sprague. It 
is still under the management, as it has been 
for the last twenty years, of Price & Simpson. 
It is, we believe, the most capacious of all the 
theatres ; and ranks as number one in the ex- 



THEATRES. ^^ 

cellence of its performances, and in the value, 
politeness, and intelligence of its audiences. 
The price of admittance to the box.es is $1 ; 
pit, 50 cents ; gallery, 25 cents. 

Next in age to the Park, is the Ame- 
rican Theatre, formerly called the Bowery, 
It was first built in the year 1826. It has 
been twice burnt to the ground : the first 
time in the year 1828; and the last in the 
year 1836. It was each time rebuilt in the 
short space of about two months. It is lo- 
cated in that spacious street called the Bowery 
a little above Chatham Square, and about half 
a mile northeast of the Park. It is under the 
management of Mr. Dinneford. The price 
of admittance to the boxes is 75 cents ; pit, 
37J cents; gallery, 25 cents. The au- 
dience here is different from that at the Park- 
being, in general, less fashionable, less polite, 
not quite as well dressed, nor quite so intelli- 
gent ; but, we believe quite as attentive to the 
performances, which are, for the most part, 
respectable. 

Next comes the National Theatre, at 



40 THEATRES. 

the corner of Church and Leonard streets. 
It was built for the Italian Opera, by a com- 
pany of g-entlemen, who wished to introduce 
that species of theatricals into New York, 
But they pretty soon found that Americans 
are not endued with Italian ears ; and, more- 
over, that the finest music, when accompanied 
with words which are not understood, soon 
ceases to please. Those who at first affected 
to be in raptures with the performances, 
in a very short time dropped off; and the 
Italian Opera House was changed into a thea^ 
tre for the enactment of English plays, and re- 
christened by the name of the National. It 
is next in size and respectability to the Park. 
The prices are the same. The manager is 
Mr. Hackett, the celebrated American come- 
dian. 

Next is the Franklin Theatre — the " lit- 
tle Franklin," as it is not improperly called. 
It is situated in Chatham Square, at no great 
distance from the American Theatre, and 
hke the last, is also under the management of 
Mr. Dinneford. Its size may be about half 



THEATRES. 



41 



that of one of the others. The price of the 
boxes is 50 cents; the pit, 25; gallery we be- 
lieve it has none. 

The fifth and last is the Richmond Hill 
Theatre, which, out of respect to its age, 
should have preceded the National and the 
Franklin. It takes its name from the former 
seat of the celebrated Colonel Aaron Burr, of 
which building it is partly formed, and through 
which is the entrance to the boxes, pit, &c. 
In size it is much about the same as the "little 
Franklin," and its prices are the same. It 
has been for the last year or two under the 
management of females : first, of Mrs. Ham- 
blin ; and since, of Miss Nelson. Under such 
fair management the gallantry of New York 
should have afforded it a fair support. But 
it has been permitted to languish; and we be- 
lieve is at present closed. 



4* 



CHAPTER V. 

CHURCHES. 

These walls we to thy honor raise ; 

Long may they echo to thy praise — Doddridge. 

In touching upon places of public resort, it 
was due, perhaps, to the churches to name 
them before the theatres : for, though public 
attention is divided between them, it is nearly 
all on the side of the churches, of which there 
ara at least thirty to one theatre. 

There are, in all, about 150 churches, or 
religious societies, in New York. If we sup- 
pose their congregations, on an average, to 
amount to 1000 each — and this we think is 
not rating them too high — there are assembled 
weekly in this city 150,000 worshippers — or 
one half the entire population. The balance, 
then, in favor of church-going, and against 
the theatres, is just equal to 29 in every 30 



CHURCHES. 43 

persons. So much does the taste in this great 
metropoUs, run on the side of religion, and so 
much more popular are sermons than plays. 

It would not, however, be quite fair to esti- 
mate the comparative popularity of plays and 
sermons by the number of persons on a given 
time attending each. Some of those, who are 
regular theatre-goers, are also regular church 
goers : and if they fill their box at the thea- 
tre every week-day evening, so in like man- 
ner do they fill their pew at church every 
Sunday. 

But there is another reason why sermons 
are better attended than plays — they are less 
expensive. It will cost a man some hundreds 
of dollars per annum for a nightly ticket at 
the theatre ; while it will scarcely cost him 
so many cents for admission at a church twice 
every Sunday. Nay, for that matter, it need 
not cost him any thing if he chooses to go 
free. The doors of all the churches are open 
to all who wish to enter, provided they demean 
themselves in a sober and orderly manner. 
But if a man take a pew, or otherwise con- 



44 CHURCHES. 

tribute his full share to the support of public 
worship, the expense is trifling indeed com- 
pared with that of a nightly attendance on the 
drama. 

Another thing, which decides many in favor 
of the church, is — in the estimation of a com- 
munity so religious as ours — the superior re- 
spectability of the church to that of the thea- 
tre. This has no inconsiderable influence. 
The opinion of friends, relations, and ac- 
quaintance, diverts many from the theatre and 
directs many to the church, who, in their se- 
cret hearts, would prefer a play to a sermon ; 
and whose ears would be more delighted with 
the profane sounds of the orchestra than with 
the sacred music of the choir. 

Another motive for attending church, pre- 
ferably to the theatre, is its superior advantage 
for exhibiting the charms of person and dress. 
For this, the church, being mostly attended in 
the daytime instead of the night, is far better 
calculated than the theatre. Then the going 
to and returning from the house of worship, 
aflfords the fairest opportunities that could be 



CHURCHES. 45 

desired for exhibiting an elegant dress or a 
comely person. We dare hardly ascribe it to 
personal vanity — because the fair sex are con- 
stitutionally devout : and yet whoever will at- 
tend the church and the theatre, will find the 
balance of female beauty, in proportion to the 
numbers attending each, immensely on the 
side of the church. Perhaps it is not so much 
their beauty that leads them to the church, as 
the offices of devotion that contribute to their 
beauty. 

But after making all due allowance for 
those who attend church from motives not 
strictly religious, there will still remain so 
large a proportion of church-goers from more 
pious motives, as cannot fail to convince the 
most sceptical, that New York is essentially a 
devout community ; and that however great 
the popularity of plays and farces, still greater 
■ — immensely greater- — is that of prayers and 
sermons. 

We have stated the number of churches in 
New York to be 150. It would take up more 
room than we can spare to give their names 



46 CHURCHES. 

and locations. For information on these 
points, we would refer the reader to the Sun- 
day Morning News, where he will find in a 
regular list, published weekly, the names and 
situations of all the churches, as well likewise 
as the names of all their pastors. But if he 
is conscientiously scrupulous against taking up 
a newspaper on Sunday, and is desirous to 
find some place of worship, he can scarcely 
go amiss in a city so abounding with places 
devoted to the public services of the sanctuary. 
Of all the numerous sects into which this 
religious community is divided, the Presby- 
terians are the most numerous, having no less 
than 39 churches. Next to these are the 
Episcopalians, who have 29. The Baptists 
have 20 ; the Methodists of all sorts, Wes- 
leyan and Independent, 20; Dutch Reformed 
14; Roman Catholic, 6; Universalist, 4; 
Orthodox, or Trinitarian, Quakers, 1 ; Hick- 
site, or Unitarian Quakers, 3 ; Congrega- 
tionalists, 2 ; Unitarians, 2 ; Lutherans, 2 ; 
Moravians, 1 ; Svvedenborgians, 1 ; Chris- 
tian, 1 ; German Reformed, 1 ; Mariner's 
Church, 1 : total 147 Christian churches. 



CHURCHES. 47 

Add to these 3 Jewish Synagogues, and you 
have the whole number of 150. 

These have meetings for public worship 
from one to three times every Sunday : ex- 
cept the Jews, whose Sabbath is on the se- 
venth day of the week. Of course, as the 
Israelites are too small a number to do busi- 
ness successfully, without Christian aid, they 
have also a second day of rest, on the first day 
of the week. 

Besides these religious societies, there is a 
congregation of Atheists who meet regularly 
on Sunday, at Tammany Hall. 

These different sects for the most part, 
walk together — or rather walk apart — in great 
harmony. They agree perfectly well, to dif- 
fer, with few exceptions. Among these ex- 
ceptions, for instance, the Atheist, sneers at 
the Christian; while the Christian, on the 
contrary, descends from his dignity to lash the 
Atheist. 

But the most bitter animosity prevails be- 
tween certain of the different sects of Chris- 
tians ; or rather perhaps, it should be said, 



48 CHURCHES. 

between the leaders of these different sects, 
These are, m general the Roman Catholics 
on the one side, and the Protestants on the 
other. But the more particular and bitter di- 
vision is between certain of the pastors of the 
Dutch Reformed and of the Roman Catho- 
lic Churches. Hence that great war of words 
recently waged between those great guns of 
controversy, Dr. Brownlee and Dr. Power. 
Calvin and the reformation on the one side, 
and the Pope and the scarlet woman on the 
other. Hence too the justification of that 
most atrocious arson, the burning of the 
Charlestown Convent ; and turning naked 
upon the world innocent and defenceless fe- 
males. And hence the encouragement of 
that foul imposture, the Awful Disclosures of 
Maria Monk ; and hence the religious belief, 
three hundred and fifty miles from the spot 
where they are alleged to have been commit- 
ted, of enormities which nobody credits on 
the spot itself ! 

But New York, as we have said, is essen- 
tially a religious community. The pastors are 



CHURCHES. 49 

religious and the people are religious. But 
some few of the shepherds cry wolf when 
there is no wolf; thus endeavoring to frighten, 
and often succeeding, in frightening their 
flocks without any just cause. 

All travelling, as they are, heavenward, the 
different sects of the truly religious are for 
the most part inclined to walk very lovingly 
together ; and would get on their way with 
few or no quarrels, if certain of their over- 
zealous pastors did not set them, most unchari- 
tably, to railing, abusing, and throwing dirt 
and stones at one another. 

The Roman Catholics now — even in the 
19th century, and in the 37th year of this cen- 
tury — are the great bugaboo to frighten the 
Protestant babes. The Pope of Rome is com- 
ing hither, with hasty strides, to take the land. 
His great toe is already on our shores ; and his 
whole foot — nay, both feet — are expected to 
be here anon. He has got six churches out of 
one hundred and fifty, in the city of New York; 
and unless suddenly arrested in his course, 
5 



50 CHURCHES. 

will infallibly lay his hand on the remaining 
one hundred and forty-four ! 

But how is he to be arrested ? By reason, 
— by argument— by christian charity 1 No : 
his own weapons are to be turned against him 
— violence, imposture, and deceit: 

" For if the devil, to serve his turn, 
Can tell truth, why the saints should scorn 
When it serves theirs, to swear and lie, 
I think there's little reason why ; 
Else h' has greater power than they, 
Which 'twere impiety to say." 

If the Papists practice Jesuitism to advance 
their cause, why should not the Protestants 
make use of the same carnal weapons to op- 
pose them 1 

Such seems to be the reasoning and such 
the practice of a few of the most violent anti- 
Catholics in New-York. But we believe they 
have not a very large number of backers, 
either in opinion or practice : the majority of 
the Protestants having little dread of the 
Pope, and less inclination to adopt, against him 



CHURCHES. 51 

and his followers, those methods of imposture 
and deceit wherewith he and they were ac- 
customed, in earlier times, to maintain their 
power over the consciences and minds of 
men. 



CHAPTER VI. 

LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

When shall we three meet again ? — Macbeth. 

Sir, I shall have law in Ephesus. — Comedy of Erroes. 

Take physic, pomp. — King Lear. 

Say but the word, and I will be his priest. — Henry VI. 

The members of the three learned professions 
in New York amount, in all, to about 1400. 
We have already stated the number of 
churches to be 150. Most of these have one 
pastor each. Some of them have more than 
one : as in the case of the Middle and North 
Dutch Reformed Churches, where three pas- 
tors are employed in the care of two flocks ; 
the South Dutch Church, where two pastors 
preside over one flock ; and in St. George's 
and Christ's Church, (Episcopal,) which are 
equally well provided with pastors. On the 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 53 

other hand, there are some churches which 
have not so much as one clergyman a-piece ; 
hut content themselves by uniting in associa- 
tions of two, or more, under one pastor : as 
in the case of St. Michael's, St. James's, St. 
Mary's, and St. Ann's. Some churches, per- 
haps, are without any regular preacher ; and 
there are some preachers without any 
churches. On the whole, therefore we shall 
not err in estimating the number of preachers 
to be equal to the number of churches : that 
is 150 in all; giving to each an average of 
2000 souls. 

The number of persons engaged in the care 
of bodies and estates is much larger : a striking 
proof, either, that the people consider these 
latter possessions of much more value than 
the former ; or, if not of more value, at least 
that they require much more care and expense 
in their preservation. 

Taking the 150 clergymen from the whole 

number engaged in the learned professions, 

and there remain, to be divided amongst the 

doctors and lawyers, 1250 : of whom 650 are 

5* 



54 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

lawyers, and the remaining 600, doctors. If, 
therefore, we divide the population among 
them in equitable proportions, each lawyer 
will have about 461 J persons to his share, and 
each doctor 500. If body and estate, in this 
great metropolis, be not well taken care of, 
it will evidently not be for lack of numbers in 
the professions of law and physic. 

It is related of a young M. D., that, having 
put his " sheepskin" in his pocket, he travelled 
towards the West, in search of a place to ped- 
dle pills. " This is a new country," said he, 
*' and I shall have it all to myself. There 
will be no competition here." Poor fellow ! 
he was not aware that there is no place so 
new as to be free from competition in the 
practice of his art. He travelled on — and still 
further on — inquiring every where for a " va- 
cancy." But the prospect grew worse ; until 
at length, he came to where two physicians 
were riding on one horse. At this sight he 
turned about and came home again : thinking 
it better to get a very limited practice in a 
city, where he could attend his patients on 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 55 

foot, than be reduced in a new country, with 
bad roads, and a sparse population, to the ne- 
cessity of riding double. 

In considering the great number of lawyers 
and doctors, in proportion to the number of 
inhabitants, it will naturally be asked how they 
all — i. e. the lawyers and doctors — live. Some 
will answer, that they do not live, but merely 
stay. We will not make so nice distinction ; 
but suppose the stayers to be also livers. 

If we suppose each man, woman, and 
child to pay, on an average, $1 50 per annum 
for medical attendance, then each physician 
in New York — allowing " the spoils" were 
divided equally — would receive ^750. This 
would decently maintain a single man ; but 
leave nothing for wife and children. 

The division of profits, however, is very far 
from being equal. We will suppose the whole 
number of doctors to be divided into jEive equal 
classes, which will give 120 to each class. 
Of the $450,000 paid to the whole, the first 
class, consisting of the oldest, most eminent, 
and best known, may be safely calculated to 



56 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

get $240,000 ; which gives tliem an average 
of $2,000 each. Here is more than half the 
practice — or rather we should say, more than 
half the pay— goes to one fifth of the physicians. 
They do not actually, we suppose, do the 
drudgery of more than a third part of the 
practice. But they attend the best, in other 
words, the wealthiest, families. The slight 
colds, the pin-scratches, the imaginary or 
magnified complaints of the tenderly^nursed 
and the luxurious fall to their share. The 
light labor and the heavy pay, the empty aiU 
ments and the full purse, these are the com- 
fortable circumstances attending their practice. 
The remaining $210,000 go to the remain- 
ing 480 doctors — giving them, on an average, 
about $437. But here again, there must be 
another unequal division. Though these are 
all obliged to pass for the lesser stars in the 
medical firmament, they are not all supposed 
by any means to twinkle with equal lustre. 
Some of these doctors will inevitably be more 
famous than the rest , and, in farmers' phrase 
will " cut a wider swath." They will get 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 57 

more practice and better pay. So that one 
fourth of the remaining' 480 doctors will get 
more than one half of the remaining $210,000; 
say $120,000, or $1000 each : leaving only 
$90,000 to be divided among the other 360 
physi iians ; which will give to each a divi- 
dend of $250. 

But the division of this remaining pittance 
is not yet to be equalized. We must sup- 
pose one third of the remaining doctors to be 
more learned, more obsequious, more fortu- 
nate, or older practitioners than the rest. 
This more happy portion will take $60,000 of 
what money remains : giving to each an aver- 
age of $500. There then remains $30,000 
to be divided among the balance of 240 doc- 
tors : giving to each a share of $125. 

But they are not yet to go ** share and share 
alike." The fourth class must inevitably be 
better, older, or more lucky fellows than the 
fifth ; and will, in all probability, get $24,000 
of the remaining $30,000 ; or $200 on an 
average : leaving just $4,000 to be divided 
among the remaining 120 doctors — and giving 
to each an average of $33 J. 



58 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

The first class, with economy, may support 
a wife and children The second class may 
rub hard, and support a wife. The third 
class may rub hard, and go single. But in re- 
gard to the fourth and hfth classes, the ques- 
tion will naturally be repeated — how do they 
live ] They must make some little show. 
They must have an office — or some decent 
or convenient place, where they may be found 
— and that among decent and respectable 
people. They must have a good c.:at to their 
back. An obscure garret and a shabby coat, 
after the manner of a poet, will not answer. 
A pill is all the more popular for gilding. 

But there is very little chance for this gild- 
ing, on the small income of $33^, or even the 
larger one of $200. The last will pay for 
board at a very moderate rate ; and leave 
nothing for clothing, office rent, books, instru- 
ments, &c. The first would scarcely furnish 
the most moderate smoker in the luxury of 
segars. 

How do these unfortunate 240 — and espe- 
cially the most unfortunate moiety of them 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 59 

live ? But before we pretend to make 
any conjectures as to the modus v'wendi of 
these sons of iEsculapiiis, we will look a 
little at the condition of the 650 "limbs of the 
law." And here we shall find that the vota- 
ries of Themis are no better rewarded than 
those of the god of medicine. 

The emoluments of the lawyers, and the 
divisions and gradations of their emoluments, 
may be reckoned about the same as those of 
the doctors. The smaller number pocket 
the greater portion of the fees. They sit 
down at the first table : and the fattest pieces, 
the most capital joints, the most delicious vi- 
ands are theirs. What is left — the broken 
meats, the leaner joints — ^go to their more nu- 
merous, but less fortunate, brethren ; a part 
of whom, at the close of the repast, are forced 
to take up with the mere crumbs which have 
fallen from the previous tables. 

The young lawyer, like the young doctor, 
must wait upon business — or wait/or business. 
He must be always in a situation to receive it. 
He must have an office — and that in some 



60 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

come-at-able place. The sign at his door must 
not direct you to a "passage that leads to 
nothing." He must make an appearance of 
doing something — whether he does it or not. 
A decent coat he must likewise have upon his 
back and a shirt-collar on his neck ; though this 
perhaps is not so requisite as to the physician, 
inasmuch as the business of the lawyer lies al- 
most wholly with those of his own sex, while 
that of the physician brings him more fre- 
quently in the presence of the women : with 
whom a spruce outside is no despisable letter 
of recommendation. Meat and lodging the 
lawyer must have. Without those prime ar- 
ticles — especially the former — he cannot ex- 
pect strength of lungs to plead the causes 
which he has — in expectancy. 

If our estimates of the emoluments of law 
and physic be correct (and we are assured, 
by members of those professions, that they 
are quite high enough,) then it appears that 
there are 250 lawyers and physicians whose 
receipts are each but $200 per annum ; and 



LAW, PHYSIC y AND DIVINITY. 61 

the same number, who receive no more than 
a sixth part of that sum ! 

How do all these live 1 " Upon hope," says 
one ; " upon faith," says another, " upon ex- 
pectation," says a third. All these are mighty 
clever things, truly ; and will answer, like 
pepper and salt to season one's meat and pro- 
mote one's digestion. But they will not do in 
the place of meat itself. Though the young 
physician or lawyer cannot w^ell do without 
them, he cannot well live upon them alone. 
Faith may remove mountains ; and yet no 
doctor or lawyer would dare rely upon it for 
a loaf of bread. Hope deferred maketh the 
heart sick ; and expectation, however strenu- 
ously indulged,- will never purchase a dinner. 

Others perhaps will answer the question, 
how do they live ] by saying, they have 
wealthy parents ; or they enjoy a patrimony ; 
or, in short, that they are blest with the means 
of living, independent of their profession. If 
they were so blest, they had never studied law 
or physic. The very fact, of their having be- 
taken themselves to either of these professions, 
is, in most cases, sufficient proof that they 
6 



62 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

have not the command of other means of live- 
lihood. In general, they have no family 
wealth. They are the sons of fathers who 
have nothing to give them ; who, in many in- 
stances, could not give them even their- pro- 
fession ; and in others, having labored hard 
to give them that, have sent them into the 
world with that as their sole patrimony. 

But you have not yet told us how they live. 
Dear, kind, curious reader, we cannot tell 
thee what we do not know. We presume 
they have intelligent friends — ask them. 

The condition of the clergy — take them as 
a whole — presents a hrighter picture. In a 
mere worldly point of view, they choose bet- 
ter than the votaries of law or physic. They 
have more of " the promise of the life that 
now is," to say nothing " of that which is to 
come." True, clergymen are rarely so well 
paid, as to get rich on their profession. None 
of them, however able or popular, receive as 
much money per annum as some of the most 
eminent lawyers or doctors. The highest 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 63 

clerical salary in New York is $5000,"^ while 
some of the ablest, or most fortunate, lawyers 
and physicians make J^ 10,000. 

But if none of the clergy get as much mo- 
ney as some of the physicians or lawyers, so, 
on the other hand, do none of them get so lit- 
tle as some of the latter. The emoluments 
are more equally divided. There is a more 
equitable distribution of the good things of 
this life. While, not above one or two of the 
pastors in New York, receive more than ^3000 
salary per annum : so, probably, there are few 
who get much below $1000. But, in addition 
to the salary, they have a house rent free, 
which is worth from three hundred to a thou- 
sand more. They also get comfortable sums 
for lighting the torch of Hymen. The niar- 
riage fee — allowing them, on an average, to 
unite one hundred couples in a year, at the 

* This is the salary of the rector of the associate churches 
of St. Paul's, St. John's, and Trinity. Since writing the 
above, we are informed that a fund has been raised for the 
support of the Bishop of New York, called the Episcopal 
Fund, and the income of which — amounting to upwards of 
$6000 — goes entirely to the Bishop. 



64 LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 

moderate rate of five dollars each — will 
amount to $500 in the whole. 

Then, in addition to the salary, the house- 
rent, and the perquisite of marrying, there are 
presents of many a good thing from the church- 
members and parishioners : broadcloth for 
the parson, bed and table linen for the par- 
son's wife, and shoes and stockings for the 
parson's children. In short, not to mention 
every thing, the number of articles which the 
minister and his family are found to want, 
and which their friends are found to supply, 
are very numerous and of very great conve- 
nience. 

From this it is evident that the condition of 
the clergy, as a body, is infinitely more com- 
fortable than that of the members of the two 
other learned professions. This is particularly 
the case with the younger branches of the 
clerical profession, as compared with the 
same branch in law and physic. They are 
not obliged to grow grey in attaining to a 
competency, and perhaps miss it at last. They 
seem to have no up-hill work in their profes- 



LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 65 

sion. They are provided for, in some way 
or other, from the beginning. If they have 
talent, if they have a good voice, a good 
figure, and good address in the pulpit — it is 
immediately known, because opportunity is 
readily accorded them for their display ; while 
the lawyer and the physician, may wait, per^ 
haps for years, without an opportunity to 
show their talents, if they have any. But 
the minister, whether he have much capacity 
or little, whether he have five talents or one, 
is conscientiously provided for among his 
religious brethren. They have too much 
christian charity to see him suffer from pov- 
erty and want. 



6* 



CHAPTER VII. 

ROGUES. 

There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark, 
But he's an arrant knave. — Hamlet. 

My dear Dick Riker ! you and I 

Have floated down life's stream together, 
And kept unharmed our friendship's tie 
Through every change of fortune's sky — 

Her pleasant and her rainy weather. — Halleck. 

New York, amidst her great variety of all 
sorts of things, good, bad, and indifferent, is 
not without her share of rogues. Indeed it 
would be St miracle if she were. It would be 
worth telling of amongst her sister cities. But 
it is a piece of news, we fear, she will not have 
to tell until the days of the millenium. While 
mankind are morally constituted as at pres- 
ent ; while considerable depravity is mixed up 
with no small share of good : there must be 



ROGUES, 67 

an every place a greater or less " sprinkling" 
of bad fellows ; and, in a city of three hund- 
red thousand inhabitants, it is not at all sur- 
prising if they should fall upon us in a very 
-considerable shower. 

A great city may be considered as the 
mother — the *' nursing mother" of rogues. 
A great city affords them aliment ; and they 
do so much credit to their keeping as to 
*' grow by what they feed on." They not 
only find aliment in a great city, but they 
also find security. They hide themselves in 
the crowd. They find holes and lurking 
places, where they lie perdue, until the cry 
of thief is over ; when they come boldly forth 
and prowl as before. 

Not only do they find security, after they 
have gotten the spoils, but they find it an 
easy matter to get them, with a little ingenu- 
ity. They sometimes even find the owners 
ready to help them to what they want: as 
happened, two or three years since, to a 
black thief, who was seen, by a boarder, busily 
at work stealing coats in the hall of one o 



68 ROGUES. 

our principal hotels. " What are you doing 
with those coats, you black rascal ?" said the 
boarder. *' I'm jist 'gwine to take 'em home 
to scour 'em," answered the thief, with great 
presence of mind and without changing color 
in the least. "Oh, you are, ha?" said the 
boarder ; " well, here take mine and scour it 
too." With that he handed him his own 
coat, and the black marched securely off. 

But if New York be pretty well supplied 

with rogues, so also is it pretty well supplied 

with rogue-takers. Who has not heard of 

High Constable Hays — better known by the 

name of "Old Haysf" What thief, what 

robber, what counterfeiter hath not trembled 

at his name ? What villain hath not stood in 

greater awe of him than of the devil, or his 

own conscience ? Not old Izaac Walton, of 

piscatory memory, did ever hook so many of 

the finny tribe as Old Hays hath seized of 

land-sharks. He knows a thief as far as he 

can see him. That keen, dark eye of his looks 

him through. Not Solomon, in all his glory, 

could tell a thief with half the precision as 



ROGUES. 69 

his brother Israelite, the High Constable of 
New-York. 

We would write the life of Old Hays, had 
it not been already done (and in a manner 
so much better than we could pretend to) in 
the columns of the Mirror, and by that excel- 
lent genius, William Cox. 

Besides the High Constable — who has now 
grown grey in nabbing thieves — there is a 
powerful corps of younger gentlemen engaged 
m the same laudable practice : such as Ho- 
mans. Sparks, Merritt, Huntington, A. M. C. 
Smith, and a number of others ; all of whose 
names daily figure in the police reports as the 
captors of such and such lots of rogues, as 
have had the imprudence, or the ill fortune, 
to fall into their hands. 

Rogues, with all their cunning, are aptt o 
make sad mistakes. They are, for the most 
part, bad generals. Though they lay their 
plans of attack well, they are exceedingly apt 
to fail in making a skilful retreat. They will 
succeed wonderfully in seizing the spoils ; but 
then they are seized upon themselves. With 



70 



ROGUES. 



all the hiding places in this great city, they can 
not hide always. '1 he police officers are ever 
upon the look-out for them, like terriers watch- 
ing for rats. They are acquainted with their 
haunts. And even should they find them new 
retreats and escape for a while ; the very im- 
punity makes them bold. They venture forth 
more daringly, and are nabbed at last. 

If one thing, more than another, secures a 
constant succession and supply of rogues in 
this city, it is the remarkable tenderness with 
which they are so often treated, when caught. 
In fact, why should they attempt to escape 
the constables, when they stand so good a 
chance of impunity from the judge? We say 
chance, because Mr. Recorder Riker, who 
has so long presided in the rogues' tribunal, 
the Court of Sessions, is by no means uniform 
in his acts of lenity. If John Doe escape to-^ 
day, it does not therefore follow that Richard 
Roe shall escape to-morrow ; even though the 
latter has been guilty of no greater crime than 
the former. The Recorder has his hours of 
severity as well as of leniency. As striking 



KiOGUES. 71 

instances of the very changeable temper 
of Justice, in his Honor's court, may be 
mentioned the case of Dunn, who was sen- 
tenced to five years' imprisonment in the state 
prison, for forging to the amount of five dot' 
lars ; and that ofFinchley, who having forged, 
and obtained the money, to the amount of 
more than nine thousand dollars, was sentenced 
to no punishment whatever. The injustice of 
the first sentence was so glaring, that a par- 
don was obtained and Dunn set at liberty af- 
ter having served out a very small portion of 
his time 

On what principle Recorder Riker makes 
up his sentences, we confess ourselves "mainly 
ignorant." We have never heard of his toss- 
ing a copper, shaking a die, or turning a card, 
to determine whether a sentence should be se- 
vere, or lenient, or no sentence at all. The 
light sentences might be acccounted for, by 
being pronounced after dinner, when, having 
enjoyed a good table — 'Such as his honor's is 
known to be — the mind is apt to be filled with 
charity for all mankind— ^even as the body is 



72 ROGUES. 

filled with good viands. But unluckily fo? 
this hypothesis, the sentences of all sorts, 
whether light or otherwise, are invariably 
pronounced before dinner. Saturday is "sen- 
tence day ;" and on Saturday morning the 
Rhadamanthus of the Court of Sessions pro- 
nounces the doom of all those who have been 
convicted on the previous days of the week. 

Many a rogue escapes by suspension of 
sentence. This suspension, however, is not 
acquittal, nor is it pardon. The very act of 
suspension leaves the punishment still hang- 
ing in terrorem over the head of the'culprit — 
ready to fall whenever he shall so far outrage 
the majesty of the laws as to repeat his offence 
— and provided always., he is again caught and 
brought before the Recorder's court. That 
he will sin a second time, having escaped pun- 
ishment for the first offence, is altogether 
probable ; but it is not quite so probable that 
he will place himself in a situation to be ar- 
raigned before the same tribunal. He will 
take his roguish inclinations, to a difi'erent 
market. If he can be sure of impunity once, 



ROGUES. 73 

he will hardly be so unreasonable as to expect 
it a second time at the hands of the same 
judge. 

But this impunity, even for a first offence, 
allows a wide scope for villany. By being 
often repeated, rogues look for it as a matter 
of course ; or if not a matter of course, as at 
least one of great probability. They consider 
the chance of escape quite sufficient to invite 
the hazard of the crime. And some, who 
have hitherto led honest lives^ seeing others 
escape so easily in the outset of guilt, are in- 
duced themselves to embark in the same voy- 
age of iniquity. Nothing is more important 
to the suppression of crime than the certainty 
of punishment; and in this respect, as well as 
in the leniency of many a sentence, the Court 
of Sessions, under the present worthy incum- 
bent, is lamentably at fault. 

Another thing, which aids very materially 
in supplying the rogue-market of this city, is 
the lenity of his Excellency the Governor, 
who pardons and sends back from the state 
prisons so great a number of villains. What 
7 



/4 ROGUES. 

is the occasion of this gubernatorial leniency^ 
has been matter of very serious conjecture. 
Some have ascribed it to the prudent motive 
of securing the support of the rogues at elec- 
tion. But this is merely the conjecture of 
political opponents, in which we put very lit- 
tle faith. 

From what we have said of the merciful 
treatment of rogues both by the sentencing 
andthepardoning power, it might be concluded 
that our city would be actually overrun with, 
and entirely given up to, roguery. And yet 
such is not the case, as will be seen by the 
following statement of all the convictions in 
our criminal courts, during the year 1836. 
These were : in the court of Oyer and Ter- 
miner, 26 ; in the General Sessions, 301 ; in 
the Special Sessions, 530 : total 857. Of 
these, much the greater number were for small, 
or petty larceny offences ; and for assaults and 
batteries. Of the latter there were 264. 
These latter though illegal acts, cannot pro- 
perly be called rogueries : because falling out 
with, and beating, a man, does by no means^ 



ROGUES. 75 

imply dishonesty ; which is the essence of 
roguery. Deducting then, the assaults and 
batteries, and there remains only 593 convic- 
tions for theft, robbery, forgery, and the like ; 
which is about one to every 510 of the popu- 
lation of this city. 

This — considering the causes abovemen- 
tioned, which so operate to the increase of 
crime — must be allowed to speak volumes in 
proof of the moral and virtuous disposition of 
the people of New York. 

Having had occasion to mention his honor, 
the Recorder of this city, as so closely con- 
nected with the subject of this chapter : it only 
remains that we say a word respecting the 
person and disposition of that worthy func- 
tionary. Richard Riker is believed to be bor- 
dering on 70 years of age. In stature he is 
about five feet five ; and he exhibits a remarka- 
ble fine specimen of a 

" Litde, round, fat, oily man." 

His head is smooth and polished ; his face 
plump and jolly ; and his expression that of 



76 ROGUES. 

good nature itself; which we understand is 
his leading characteristic* To conclude : 
we are assured by those who know — that he 
eats well, drinks well, is a good Presbyterian, 
and worth half a million of dollars. 

The Recorder — to the sincere regret of 
those who have business in the Court of Ses- 
sionst — has announced his intention of retir- 
ing from the office which he has so long held, 
after the expiration of his present term of ser- 
vice. Both the lawyers and the rogues will 
have occasion to mourn that event : the for- 
mer, because they can scarcely expect, in his 
successor whoever he may be^ — so good-na- 

* The Recorder, we are informed, is a very generous 
landlord, and does not, like most others, take advantage of 
the rise of property to oppress his tenants, or to turn them 
out of doors. On the contrary, they are allowed to remain, 
on the same rents which they paid when real estate had not 
reached half its present value, 

t There is a set of lawyers in this city, whose practice is 
nearly all in the criminal courts, and whose principal aim 
is to defeat tlie ends of justice : in other words, to save 
villains from the state's prison and the gallows ; and their 
exertions to bring oflf their clients are always in the precis^ 
proportion to their utter worthlessness and depravity. 
"A fellow faUing makes us wond'rous kind !" 



79 

ROGUES. *pr 



tured a man ;* and the latter because they 
can have no hopes of so lenient a judge. 

' I^*^« gentlemen of the bar-as sometimes happens in 
the court of Sessions-tweak each others' noses, Record r 

say Gentlemen, your noses are your own, and you may 
handle them as you please." » " you may 



7# 



76 
go 



CHAPTER VIIL 

DANDIES. 

He was perfumed like a milliner; 
And 'twixt his finger and hia thumb he held 
A pouncet box, which ever and anon 
He gave his nose, and took't away again. 

Henry Hotspur, 

We hope none of the gentlemen belonging 
to the genus dandy, will take offence at our 
placing them in the next chapter to the genus 
rogue. We assure them it was purely acci- 
dental ; and furthermore, that we are not 
aware of any such necessary and essential like- 
ness between them as should cause them to be 
treated of in so near a connection. It is true, 
the rogue sometimes assumes the garb and 
manners of a dandy, the better to conceal his 
canning designs, and the more securely to ac- 
complish his deep4aid plans. But we are 
not aware that the dandy, on his part, is solici- 



DANDIES. 



79 



tous ever to appear in the garb and character 

of a rogue. 

In fact there is a very essential difference 
between them. Their minds are of different 
calibre. The rogue, though very far from be- 
ing a wise man, is not by many degrees, so des- 
titute of nous — to use a Greek word— or of 
gumption to speak in the vernacular — as the 
dandy. He has a head capable of better 
things, if he would but use it properly ; while 
the capacity of the dandy is not supposed, in 
its utmost limit, to be capable of any thing 
more weighty or of more importance, than 
mere outside show. He is a poor unfortunate, 
if a creature, wanting sense, may be so charac- 
terized, merely from that circumstance. But 
this is doubtful ; for the more empty a man's 
head, the less likely it is to droop and to be 
weighed down with the miseries of this life. 

Like other great cities, New York has her 
share of this class of the biped without feath- 
ers. The whole number, after a careful esti- 
mate, is believed to be about 3000 ; or one 
to every hundred of the population, They 



^^ DANDIES. 

abound more or less in every part of the city, 
from Corker's Hook to the Battery, and 
ifom Blooming Dale to White Hall. But 
they are mostly to be seen in public places— 
at the corners of streets, on the door-steps of 
hotels, and in the various public walks. 

Dandies may be divided into three classes 
namely: chained dandies, switched dandies,' 
and qmzzmg-glass dandies. These are so 
distmguished, as the reader will readily con- 
ceive, from those harmless pieces of ornament 
which they severally wear about their persons 
or carry in their hands. 

The chained dandy is so called from a 
go de„-or a gilded-or a brazen-chain, 
of light workmanship, which he wears about 
his neck, and which is attached to a watch if 
he IS able to wear one; and to nothing at 
all, if his pecuniary condition happens to be 
better suited to that convenience. 

The switched, or caned, dandy is so de- 
nommated from a slender cane, or switch, 
about the size of a pipe-stem, made of whale- 
bone, or of steel, as the case may be, of 




BANDIES. 



81 



a shining black, neatly polished, with an 
ivory head, a brass foot, a golden eye, and a 
tassel of silk ; which cane or switch, he con- 
stantly carries and switches about him, 

" As a gentleman switches his cane." 

The quizzing-glass dandy is so styled from 
a small glass, either of a circular or eliptic 
shape, set in gold or in brass, which he car- 
ries suspended to his neck by a chain or 
riband ; and which he whips from his bosom, 
and applies to his eye, as often as he is intro- 
duced to a stranger of either sex, and as often 
as he sees a female who has any pretension 
either to youth or beauty. 

In respect to numbers, the three classes are 
nearly equally divided. In many cases, they 
are united in the same person. The tasselled 
switch, the gilded chain, the everlasting 
quizzing-glass, combine to ornament the self- 
same character. He is a dandy of the first 
water. He is the triple, or compound, dandy ; 
and his head is found, on dissection, to pos- 
sess three times the vacancy of the single, 
simple, or uncompounded dandy, 



82 DANDIES. 

Having such " a plentiful lack of wit," it 
will be asked how do these gentry obtain a 
livelihood ? For the most part, we answer, 
they live by eating. But this is not invariably 
the case ; as we have more than once had 
occasion to witness : having seen them stand, 
day after day, near the cooking apartments of 
the refectories, where they take in with ex- 
panded nostrils the rich steam that escapes 
from boiled, roasted, and stewed, and passing 
through the doors, windows, or crevices, 
causes them to be mightily refreshed ; and all 
without the expense of purchasing a dinner, 
or the labor of using their jaws. 

But the dandies are not all reduced to live 
on such very light fare. Some of them have 
fathers, some have mothers, and some have 
uncles and aunts, who take pity on their wants 
and supply their emptiness — of bellj^ Others 
go upon tick. And others again — strange as 
it may seem — are engaged in different em- 
ployments, and receive wages. Many of 
them are to be seen at the merchant's desk or 
behind the counter. Having the use of hands 



DANDIES. 85 

and the faculty of speech, they can handle 
the yardstick, use the pen, or pronounce on 
the price and quality of goods. Their speech, 
however, is exceedingly parrot-like, and 
mostly consists in the use of a single word, 
which is applied promiscuously to all som 
of articles. They are all '' shuperb !" 

Dandies are supposed, by many, to be on 
the increase in New York. But of that we 
are not certain. The truth is, the race is not 
particularly admired, and especially by the 
ladies. The consequence is, that they have 
little chance of getting married and thus pro- 
pagating the species. It is believed, therefore, 
that in time they will run out. That the race' 
will become extinct; and, like the mammoth, 
leave nothing behind them but their bones: 
de mortuis nil nisi hone-um. 



CHAPTER IX. 

DOG POLICE* 

But soon awonder came to light, 

That showed the rogues they lied : 

The man recovered of the bite, 

The dog it was that died. 

Goldsmith. 

There is an occasional police in New York, 
for the restraining of dogs. But, alas ! for 
the canine race ! it is not founded in equal 
principles of justice as that applied to man. 
It has no reference whatever to the char- 
acter of the dog. It is not even asked, "what 
evil hath he done ?" It is sufficient to say, 
he is a dog— therefore let him die. His life 
may have been as pure as that of Socrates. 
He may never have done, designed, or even 
imagined evil, against any human being ; and 
yet he cannot escape the death of a felon, if 



DOG POLICE. 85 

he presume, while the law is in force, so 
much as to put his foot into any street of this 
great metropolis. 

This dog-police, we have said, is occasion- 
al. It requires some spur in the head of the 
city authorities to prick them on to the enact- 
ment even of a temporary law, more bloody 
than that of Draco himself*. There must be 
some great out-cry against the animals. 
'^' Mad dog !" must be frequent in the mouths 
of the inhabitants, and especially in the col- 
umns of the newspapers. Somebody must 
contrive to be bitten, or attacked, or fright- 
ened — or put in jeopardy of a fright — by 
some sort of a dog, which must be supposed 
to be mad — or violently suspected of being 
inclined to madness. 

No matter how the cry originates ; nor 
whether it have any foundation in truth or 
not. Sufficient is it, that it is full, frequent, 

* The difference between our anti-canine legislators and 
Draco, is this, that, whereas the latter ordained the punish- 
ment of death for the smallest crime, the former inflict it 
without any crime. 

8 



86 



DOG POLICE. 



and loud. And if it happen in the dog-day^' 
—as it generally does — it is so much the more 
effective. The common council immediately 
pass a law, setting a price on the head of 
every dog that shall presume to be seen in 
the street. Without this premium, dogs might 
continue to run at large forever without be- 
ing molested, notwithstanding they are out- 
laws as often as they are out of their masters' 
houses : for, such is the general good feeling 
of the human race towards them, that nobody 
would think of putting the law in force, ex- 
cept he were well paid for it. So cruel — so 
" foul and unnatural" — is the crime of dog- 
murder, that money alone can induce to its 
commission. 

The last great " slaughter of the inno- 
cents," in New- York, took place in the sum- 
mer of 1836 ; when fifty cents was consider- 
ed sufficient inducement to take a dog's life- 
Two years previously — to wit, in the summer 
of '34 — a dollar, if we mistake not, was paid 
for the same bloody service. Why the cor- 
poration made so great a deduction last year 



DOG POLICE. 37 

-especially as the price of every other kind 
of labor, and of all commodities, had increas- 
ed—we are not informed. Perhaps they had 
a mmd, by fixing the price so low, to save the 
dogs as much as possible from their unmerit- 
ed fate. 

But if such was their humane design, they 
must have been grievously disappointed : for, 
small as the inducement was, there perished 
during the whole massacre— which continued 
for several weeks— no less than 8537 dogs ' 
How many fell in the year '34, when the pre- 
mmm was twice as high, we do not recollect. 
But we believe the number was greatly infe- 
rior. 

We are not certain that the lower price was 
not the greater inducement to exertion : be- 
cause more labor was necessary to be done to 
make a '' living business" of it. The slaugh- 
ter was mostly achieved by loafers ; and, as 
every body knows, a loafer will not exert him- 
self unless driven to it by dire necessity. His 
maxim is, that " sufficient for the day is the 
evil thereof," and therefore h^ takes '' no 



88 DOG POLICE. 

thought for the morrow.*' Hence, if he could 
procure the means of livelihood for a day, by 
the slaughter of one dog, he had no induce- 
ment to bloody his hands with two. 

Such was the case in the year '34. In 
that year the loafer, black or white, (for cani- 
cides are of no particular color) having killed 
his dog of a morning, and got his dollar, re- 
signed himself entirely to his ease, and throve 
for the remainder of the day on the fruit of his 
morning's work. But in the year '36, having 
got only half a dollar for his morning's work, 
he was driven to the necessity of sallying out 
again in the afternoon, to make good the de- 
ficiency of his earnings in the previous part 
of the day. 

Another reason for the greater slaughter 
of last 3^ear wasj probably, the increase of 
loafers. The}' might have been induced to 
this city by the report of the very liberal man- 
ner in which New York rewarded the murder 
of the most innocent of her inhabitants. And 
as it is an easy thing to find a dog, where 
those animals abound ; so money could 



DOG POLICE. 89 

scarcely be wanting to a loafer to buy him a 
dinner, through the means of their execution. 

There was a rumor, last year, that a part 
— and a pretty large part — of the ani- 
mals, on whose head the bounty was paid, 
were not found in New York ; but brought 
hither by shallop-loads, from Flushing, Oyster- 
Bay, Crane Neck, Mount Misery, Saugatuck, 
Sachem's Head, and all along the shores of 
Long Island Sound ; and thence eastwardly 
as far as Conaguetogue Point, Narragansett 
Bay, Squibnock Head, and so on as far as 
the uttermost bounds of Yankee land. And 
some said that a large importation was made 
even from the Isle of Dogs. 

Whether it was a discovery, or a suspicion, 
of this system of smuggling : or whether the 
blood of the murdered innocents began to cry 
to them from the ground : or whether the 
city exchequer began to run low: certain 
it is, that the half-dollar system was suddenly 
stopped ; the bounty was suppressed ; the 
inducement to slaughter was recalled : and the 

remainder of the dogs had their lease of 

8* 



90 DOG- POLICE. 

life renewed for another year — or until such 
time as the senseless outcry against their race 
shall stir up the corporation to expend the 
people's money in killing the people's fa^ 
vorites. 

From what we have here said, strangers 
may learn at what hazard — especially in dog^ 
days— they bring with them to New York 
their four-footed domestics. Though they 
are. sure not to desert them — like some of the 
more faithless of the two-footed — still they are 
in imminent danger of losing them by some 
statute of outlawry, already passed, or on the 
very eve of passing against them. 

In addition to this hazard of life, dogs are 
subjected, in New York, to an annual tax of 
three dollars. It is, indeed, more than most 
of them are worth— alwa3^s excepting the 
terriers. Were it not for this species of dogs, 
the city would be devoured with rats. Noth- 
ing will stop this kind of vermin, until you 
stop their breath. They penetrate every 
where. The stoutest oak plank is no obstruc- 
tion. And for deal boards, lath and plas- 



DOG POLICE. 91 

ter, and such like defences, they laugh at 
them. 

These rats (known in Boston by the name 
,of ^* wharf rats," and by naturahsts called the 
mus decumanvs,) are, especially many of the 
older ones, too strong to be easily killed by a 
cat ; besides the cat will not hunt them with 
half the perseverance of the terrier, which 
seems to take greater delight in their slaugh- 
ter than even in its daily food. 

In fact the only true professional rat-catch- 
er in this country — who both understands 
and loves his profession — is this variety of the 
dog. Two terriers, kept at a certain hotel 
in this city, are known to kill not less than 
half a ton of rats in a single year.* 

* If any reader should fancy its to be a large story, we 
beg him to consider, for a moment, the extraordinary size, 
weight, and abundance of the New-York rats. Allowing 
the above named dogs to despatch, each only three rats per 
day, Sundays included : and there are upwards of 2000 
rats killed during the year. Now, no person, acquainted 
with the size of these rats, will pretend to estimate their 
weight at less than half a pound each: which proves that 
our assignment of half a ton, as the joint labor of the two 
dogs, ia not a single ounce too high. 



\)2 DOG POLICE. 

When such are the virtues and such the 
services of the terrier, who can think, without 
indignation, of a price being set upon his 
head. But we hope — -and are rather in- 
clined to think — that fewer of this valuable 
sort of dogs have fallen a pre}* to the butchers 
than of any other. And we are inclined to 
think so, for this reason — that they are decid- 
edly industrious dogs, and the most domestic 
in their tastes, of any of the inhabitants of the 
city. They are seldom seen gadding about 
the streets. And therefore in all probability, 
had the good fortune, a majority of them, to 
escape with]|their lives. 



CHAPTER X, 



MOBS. 



I charge ye all, no more foment 
This feud, but keep the peace betweeu 
Your brethren and your countrymen ; 
And to those places straight repair 
Where your respective dweUings are. 

HUPIBRAS. 

Were a magistrate, in New York, to read 
the riot act in the words of our motto, it 
might safely be answered, by most of the riot- 
ers, " we have no * dwellings' — how then 
can we repair to them ?' Those, who have 
houses of their own, it is believed, are seldom 
inclined to leave them for the purpose of de- 
molishing the houses of their neighbors. 

Mobs are not an invention of recent date. 
On the contrary, they may lay claim to very 
high antiquity. Even before the deluge "the 
earth," we are told, " was filled with vio^ 



94 



MOBS. 



lence." And where is violence to be found 
in a more concentrated form, than in a mob ] 
In the days of " righteous Lot," and in the 
foul, city of Sodom, we read of " both old 
and young," that collected about the house of 
that patriarch and violently clamored for the 
surrender of the two angels who lodged with 
him. And they would actually have broken 
into the house and committed great violence, 
had they not, in the midst of their rage, been 
struck blind by the celestial visitants. 

The mob prevailed to a great extent in 
Greece. But the materials of a Grecian mob, 
it must be confessed, were of a more respecta- 
ble character than those of modern times ; 
and they might plead in excuse, especially at 
Athens, the nature oi their government, which 
so frequently called the multitude together. 

At Rome also they had very distinguished 
mobs. Such was that which seized upon the 
Sabine women. Such was that which foully 
murdered the brave Dentatus ; and such that 
which slew the Gracchi. The two last were 
patrician mobs. 



MOBS. 95 

In Judea, a mob murdered the Savior of 
men. When Pilate, the Roman governor, 
who sat as judge, was disposed to acquit him, 
he was prevented by the violence of the multi- 
tude who demanded the blood of the innocent ; 
and that Barabbas, a fellow of their own 
kidney, who had been committed for murder 
and sedition, should be set at liberty. And 
the governor (how unworthy the character of 
a Roman) gave sentence for the crucifixion of 
an innocent person, because " a tumult was 
made." 

Great cities have ever been, and probably 
ever will be, more or less the theatres of the 
mob. In London they have given their tu- 
multuous exhibitions times without number. 
Many of these have been deemed worthy of a 
place in history. During the reign of George 
III. there were several of this description : 
such as the beer mob of 1762, occasioned by 
an increased duty on that favorite beverage of 
Englishmen. In the year 1767 happened the 
Wilkes mob, occasioned by the imprisonment 
of the celebrated John Wilkes. The year 



96 MOBS. 

1780 was famous for the great anti-popery 
mob, occasioned by the repeal of the penal 
laws against Papists. This mob continued to 
rule for several days. It set fire to many 
houses ; pulled down that of Lord Mansfield?- 
and several others ; and was not finally sup- 
pressed until three or four hundred of the 
rioters had fallen by the hands of the military. 

Paris too has had her mobs. Indeed, for 
several years during the French Revolution, 
she may be said to have been almost under 
the constant influence of the mob ; which, 
through her, ruled all France. 

All the principal cities of the United States 
have had their mobs. The most famous of 
these, and the most worthy of the dignity of 
history — both on account of the cause, the 
character of the persons engaged, and the 
consequences that ensued — was the cele- 
brated tea-mob of Boston, in the year 1773, 
commonly called the " Boston Tea Party." 
Three years before that the British soldiers 
were mobbed, and assailed with stones and 
brickbats ; when they fired upon the Bosto- 



MOBS. 97 

nians, and killed five on the spot. In later 
times, the Boston mobs have been compara- 
tively trivial affairs. But it must be confessed, 
that the citizens of that sober metropolis, 
when once sufficiently vv^rought up to enact 
the mob, do the business in the most effectual 
manner of any people of the United States. 

Baltimore has been emphatically called the 
" Mob-City ;" and in the year 1812 certain of 
her people did their best, or their v^orst, to 
vi'in for her that appellation. On that occa- 
sion fell several persons, among whom was 
General Lingan, a revolutionary officer, who 
was murdered in the jail where he had been 
placed for security against the violence of the 
mob, whose animosity he had excited by his 
efforts in defending the house of Mr. Hanson 
the editor of the Federal Republican. Han- 
son was opposed to the war, then recently 
declared, which was a favorite with the mob. 

In 1835 — a year, as was likewise that of 

'34, infamous for mobs — Baltimore renewed 

her claim to be called the " mob-city," by 

pulling down, or suffering to be pulled down, 
9 



98 Mobs. 

in a riot, the houses of some of her most dis- 
tinguished citizens. 

Philadelphia — the " city of brotherly love" 
— 'had her mobs in 1834, when some blood 
v/as spilt. In fact the spirit of violenc-e and 
misrule prevailed throughout the United 
States, in the years '34 and '35 ; and it would 
have been strange indeed, if Philadelphia had 
entirely escaped the epidemic. 

The first mob of any great notoriety in 
New York, was called the " Doctors'' Mob"-— 
not because it was got up by the doctors, but 
against them. This happened in the winter 
of 1787. Some medical students were im- 
prudent enough to let it be known that they 
were engaged in the offices of dissection — ^ac- 
tually dismembering the bodies of men who 
had not died the death of felons. And as it 
is ever considered, by the populace, a greater 
crime to exhume and dissect a dead man, 
than to kill a live one, so the populace of this 
city determined to make an example of these 
sons of ^sculapius. They rushed to the Hos- 
pital and destroyed a number of anatomical 



MOBS. 



99 



preparations ; and would have done the same 
by the students, if they had not been rescued 
by the interference of the mayor, the sheriff, 
and some of the most intelligent citizens, who 
lodged them in jail for safe keeping. The 
mob then attacked the jail, and in attempting 
to disperse them, John Jay was severely 
wounded in the head. Hamilton and others, 
used their exertions in defence of the jail. 
The militia were at length called out ; and the 
mob were finally dispersed by killing five and 
wounding seven or eight of their number. 

The year '34 was famous, in New York, for 
the anti-abolition mob. Commencing on the 
Fourth of July, at an anti-slavery meeting in 
Chatham-street Chapel, it was not completely 
suppressed for several days. The abolition- 
ists—relying upon the Constitution, thought 
they had a right to express their opinions 
freely on all subjects, and among the rest on 
the subject of slavery. Relying on the De^ 
claration of Independence, they deemed that 
all men were born free and equal ; and that 
the blacks not only had a right to their liberty's 



100 MOBS. 

but that they were also entitled to an equal 
seat in public, with their white brethren. 

In the practical enjoyment of this idea, 
they were not molested either by the philoso- 
pher or the christian ; neither of whom at- 
tempted to disturb a union in which they 
were not compelled to join, and which was 
left equally free to all, either to choose or to 
reject. 

But others were not so inclined to peace. 
In spite of the Declaration of Independence 
and the U. S. Constitution, they determined 
that all men were not born equal, and that 
there was one subject, at least, on which, in 
a free country, no man should publicly open 
his mouth. They resolved, therefore, nem.con., 
that the abolitionists should be routed. Where- 
fore, attacking them from the boxes, they 
hurled down upon their heads, in the pit,* 

* The Chatham-street Chapel was formerly the Chat- 
ham Theatre. It is but a few years since it was captured 
from the Arch Enemy ; and it still bears evidence of its 
profane origin : for the boxes, tier above tier, remain pre- 
cisely as in the days of its theatrical glory ; the pit and the 
stage only being changed into something more of a church- 
like appearance. 



MQBS. 



101 



the benches, and whatever they could con- 
veniently lay their hands on ; and at last suc- 
ceeded in driving them, with their colored 
friends, from the house. 

The next exploit of the mob was the attack 
on the house of Lewis Tappan, the leader of 
the abolitionists. Having broken in the doors 
and windows, they contented themselves with 
making a bonfire of all his furniture — valued 
at about $1500 — and then, with great mod- 
eration, dispersed, to assemble again the next 
evening for further mischief. Their next 
achievement was the demolition of the win- 
dows and pews of the churches of the Rev. 
Dr. Cox and the Rev. Mr. Ludlow ; both of 
which gentlemen were accused of being fa- 
vorable to immediate abolition. The mob 
also, attacked the church of the Rev. Peter 
Williams, a respectable colored clergyman, 
who happened to be of opinion that slavery 

was not the best possible condition for his 
African brethren. 

Such were the principal proceedings of the 

anti-abolition mob of '34. How much longer 
9* 



102 MOBS. 

they would have continued their outrages, 
had they not been wearied with the business — 
or had they not begun, after about three days, 
to meet with some decided symptoms of oppo- 
sition from the police, we know not. 

To do justice to our worthy mayor and 
corporation, it must be acknowledged that, in 
almost all cases of outbreaks against the 
peace, they begin to bestir themselves very 
lustily after the mischief is fairly done. When 
the city is threatened with a riot, they stren- 
uously keep their own peace, until the mob is 
completely organized, the work of destruc- 
tion commenced, and, in general, pretty well 
finished. It has been so in all the riots that 
have happened here within our recollection. 

The last of these was the flour-riot, which 
happened in the month of February of the 
present year. In consequence of the high 
price of bread, growing out of the monopoly 
of flour by a few speculators in that article, 
the papers for several weeks had spoken in 
terms of indignation of the base avarice — the 
grinding cruelty — of those merchants, who 



MOBS. 



103 



were said to be coining money, as it were, 
out of the very heart's blood of the people 

At length a great meeting was'assembled in 
the Park, to devise means for the cure of so 
great a grievance. Warm harangues were 
pronounced, and spirited resolutions were 
passed. Whether these roused the feehngs of 
the half-starved auditors, and first suggest- 
ed to their minds the idea of taking ven- 
geance on the flour monopolists, or whether 
the mob had been previously organized, as the 
conservators of the peace had been some 
hours before, informed : certain it is, that im- 
mediately after the dismission of the meeting 
in the Park, a band of rioters proceeded to the 
store of Eli Hart &Co., the most obnoxious 
of all the flour monopolists ; and demolishing 
their windows and doors, threw out and de- 
stroyed two or three hundred barrels of flour, 
and nearly the like quantity of wheat. Wheth- 
er they expected to make the remainder of 
those articles cheaper by destroying a part, is 
not specified ; but so rapidly did they work 
for two or three hours, in rolling out and sta- 



104 MOBS. 

ving in the casks of flour and wheat, that 
their contents lay mingled together, from one 
side of the street to the other, to the depth of 
two or three feet. 

The worthy mayor was, by this time, on the 
ground before the mob had more than half 
completed the work in hand. The constables 
were also there, with their long pine sticks. 
The mayor — like a man of peace, as he is 
known to be — first began to make a speech. 
But the rioters, who had just been hearing a 
much finer oration in the Park, refused to 
listen ; and even proceeded so far as to stop 
the flow of His Honor's eloquence, with a 
handful of flour. They treated the constables 
and their staves of office with quite as little re- 
spect J for they broke the staves over the 
constables' backs. 

The mayor and his posse were driven from 
the ground ; but returning, after a while with 
a larger force, they finally proved victorious. 
Another flour store was broken open by this 
piob ; but nothing worthy of note achieved. 

TJieatrical rows occasionally grace New 



MOBS. 



105 



York, as well as other cities ; blit histor}? can 
scarcely raise these to the dignity of mobs — 
at least such as we have seen in this city. 
The principal of these v/ere the anti-Anderson 
and the anti-Wood rows at the Park theatre ; 
the first, we think, was in 1831 ; the last was 
in 1836. They were each occasioned by im- 
ported singers. The first, while on board 
the ship crossing the Atlantic, was so imprud- 
ent as to " damn the Yankees'' — meaning 
thereby Americans, in general. And as the 
Americans, though they may abuse one anoth- 
er pretty heartily, will not allow foreigners 
to take the same liberty : so they determined, 
at least in New York — that Mr. Anderson 
should never raise a note on their boards ; 
and they effectually executed their determina^ 
tion ; besides smashing the windows and 
lamps in front of the theatre. 

The anti-Wood row originated chiefly in a 
private quarrel between the Courier and En- 
quirer and Wood, the singer. The Courier 
had made a statement respecting the rather 
uncorteous refusal of Mr. Wood to play at 



106 



MOBi 



Mrs. Conduit's benefit ; which statement ha{3- 
pening to be true, was taken in very high 
dudgeon by Mr. Wood. He insisted upon 
its being contradicted ; and as the Courier 
did not choose upon that occasion, to eat its 
own words, he brought the matter publicly 
upon the stage — accusing the editor of false- 
hood and ungentlemanly conduct. This 
roused the ire of the editor, who invited the 
sovereign people to attend at the Park, at 
Wood's next appearance, and put him down ; 
at the same time warning the police not to 
interfere. The people — alias the mob — did 
more than they were invited to. They burst 
jn the doors of the theatre, and filled the house 
more perfectly than it was ever filled before. 
They however did little or no mischief; and 
only insisted, when High Constable Hays at- 
tempted to interfere, that that grave function- 
ary should make them a speech from the 
stage. Wood challenged Webb, the editor 
of the Courier, who refused to meet him, on 
the ground that he was not a gentleman. 
The former shortly after sailed for England. 



MOBS. 107 

Much has been said, in the newspapers, of 
the prevalence of the mob in this city ; and 
we have thought it necessary, in taking a 
glance at things in general, to give also a 
chapter on mobs. But, on a careful review 
of the subject, we cannot find that New York 
is entitled to any great pre-eminence in the 
mob line : especially, when the vast number 
and various character of her population is 
considered : and still more especially, when 
the kindly forbearance of the city authorities 
allows such remarkable scope for the free 
exercise of the spirit of mobocracy. 



CHAPTER XL 

MONOPOLIES. 

" And greedy Avarice by him did ride, 

Upon a camel laden all with gold ; 

Two iron coffers hung on either side, 

With precious metal, full as they might hold; 

And in his lap a heap of coin he told ; 

For of his wicked pelf his god he made, 

And unto hell himself for money sold." — Spencer, 

We now come to a grievance of a very diffe- 
rent, but of a not less odious and injurious, 
character than that which formed the subject 
of our last chapter. Much as mobs are to 
be deprecated, and much as every friend to 
good order and security should set his face 
against them : so much and so strenuously 
should every lover of his country set himself 
in opposition to the abuse of monopolies. By 
which we mean the granting of exclusive 



MONOPOLIES. 109 

privileges to any man or set of men, save only, 
for the public good ; or for the security of the 
right of authors, inventors, &c., to the pro- 
ductions of their own toil and study. 

The monopolies, against which every good 
man should firmly strive, are those which are 
devised and granted solely for the benefit of 
individuals or companies. Such monopolies 
convert a general right into an exclusive one. 
They take from the many to give to the few. 
They rob Peter, James, and John, only to 
bestow the plunder on Philip. 

Here is a direct injury to all the individuals 
of the community, except the favored one — 
the monopolist — because their rights are taken 
away and conferred upon him. But this is 
not the greatest of the evil. An indirect, but 
more wide-spread injury is inflicted on the 
community. The monopolist, having the sole 
command and disposal of any article of gen- 
eral use or necessity, compels the public to 
pay twice or thrice as much for it as would be 
the price, if left where nature and the general 

10 



110 MONOPOLIES. 

rights of man had placed it, open and free to 
competition. 

In bringing into comparison the two evils 
of mobs and monopolies, we ought to bear in 
mind that the former, being unlawful, require 
only the execution of the law to suppress 
them. This, the magistrates, with a due de- 
gree of vigor and firmness can effect, and 
every good citizen will lend his aid in restor- 
ing and keeping the peace. The grievance 
is capable of prompt redress. Not so with 
monopolies ; because, being a lawful evil, the 
magistrates cannot interfere with them. They 
cannot command the aid of the posse to put 
them down ; they cannot call out the 
military to suppress them. There is no- 
thing in general, to be done, but to wait for 
the slow operation of time. Even the le- 
gislature cannot mend the mischief it ha& 
made. It has no power to uncharter what 
it has once chartered. The community, 
whatever burdens it is suffering under, must 
wait for a given term of years, if not foreverj 
for their removal. 



MONOPOLIES. Ill 

Contrasted as monopolies are with mobs, 
there is nevertheless, in many cases, a pretty 
close connection between them — namely, that 
of cause and effect — ^the oppression of the 
monopoly leading to the outrage of the mob. 
This is verified by history. The principal 
discontents, during the reign of Queen Eliza- 
beth, rose from the great number and oppres- 
sive nature of the monopolies granted by that 
princess ; and had it not been for her per- 
sonal popularity and the remarkable vigor of her 
administration, in all probability, would have 
exhibited themselves in a more alarming shape 
than that of mere murmurs and complaints. 

Among the articles, for which patents of 
monopoly were granted by Elizabeth, were, 
according to Hume, "currants, salt, iron, 
powder, cards, calfskins, fells, pouldavies, ox- 
shin-bones, train oil, lists of cloth, potashes, 
anniseeds, vinegar, sea coals, steel, aquavitae, 
brushes, pots, bottles, saltpetre, lead, acci- 
dence, oil, calamine-stone, oil of blubber, 
glasses, paper, starch, tin, sulphur, new 
drapery, dried pilchards," &c &c. The 



-••^•^ MONOPOLIES. 

monopolists of saltpetre had the power of 
entering any house, and of committing what 
havoc they pleased in stables, cellars, or where- 
ever they suspected saltpetre might be gather- 
ed. The last parliament of James I. abolished 
monopolies, with an exception in favor of 
new inventions. But they were revived by 
Charles I., who sold to a company the exclu- 
sive privilege of manufacturing soap; and 
laid restrictions on a great many other com- 
modities, even down to linen rags. These 
monopolies, which almost ruined the industry 
of the country during two or three successive 
reigns, were among the various causes of 
complaint which finally brought the unhappy 
Charles to the block. 

Elizabeth rewarded her public servants and 
gratified her favorites by the grant of exclusive 
privileges. She gave to the celebrated earl 
of Essex the monopoly of sweet wines. Our 
legislators also reward their favorites and par- 
tisans by a gift of monopolies. If they do not 
confer upon them the exclusive privilege of 
dealing in "shin-bones," "lists of cloth," 



MONOPOLIES. 113 

" dried pilchards," and such Hke trifling mat- 
ters, they grant them other and more weighty 
monopolies, which doubtless please them quite 
as well : such as bank charters, insurance 
charters, gas-light charters, and the " sole use 
and behoof" of various other rights and privi- 
leges, which they take from their constituents 
in general, to bestow on their partisans and 
friends in particular. 

The mayor and corporation of New York, 
so far as their legislative capacity admits, imi- 
tate their superiors in the state legislature : so 
that, between the general assembly and the 
common council, a restriction is laid upon 
many of the most important pursuits, and 
many of the most necessary articles of com- 
fort and convenience. 

Banking is a monopoly ; the sale of butch- 
er's meat is a monopoly ; the disposal of 
o-oods at auction is a monopoly ; the ferries 
are a monopoly; the piloting of vessels is a 
monopoly ; and gas-lights are a monopoly. 

By the monopoly of banking, commercial 

operations are fettered ; by the monopoly of 
10* 



114 MOXOPOLIES. 

butcher's meat, the price is excessively in- 
creased, and many a poor man deprived of a 
piece ; by the monopoly of sales at auction, 
the advantages which should accrue to the 
pockets of the many are confined to the pock- 
ets of the few ; by the monopoly of ferries, a 
hundred per cent more is paid for crossing the 
river, than would otherwise be demanded ; by 
the monopoly of gas-lights, the city is left in 
darkness ; and by the monopoly of pilotage, 
vessels are lost and human life destroyed, 
which would be saved if the business were left 
open to competition. 

Of the injurious operation of the pilot laws 
of New York instances are almost too numer- 
ous to require particular mention. But we 
cannot pass over those very disastrous cases 
which have occurred within a few months — 
we mean the wreck of the ships Bristol and 
Mexico, on the Rockaway beach ; when 
nearly two hundred lives were lost. These 
ships were in sight of the harbor, standing off 
and on for several days, with a signal flying for 
a pilot ; but no pilot would budge an inch, be- 



MONOPOLIES. 115 

cause the few to whom the law gives a mo- 
nopoly of the business, had grown too fat, too 
luxurious, too careless of gain, to expose 
themselves to a rude wind and a rough sea, 
however much property and however many 
lives might be lost by their negligence.* 

* Since the above was written, a law has been passed by 
Congress, which makes the waters of New York and New 
Jersey common to the pilots of both states. Our own le- 
gislature has also attempted something in the way of 
amendment of our pilot system. But whatever is done, or 
neglected to be done, on this subject at Albany, the act of 
Congress will open a road to competition ; and it is hoped 
no future disasters like the above may occur, from a mere 
want of exertion on the part of the pilots. 



CHAPTER XII. 



MAGAZINES. 



Hard has he toiled and richly earned liis gains 
Ruined his fingers and spun out his brains. — Echo. 

The Italian word magazzino, from which our 
EngUsh word magazine is derived, signifies a 
warehouse. Rightly named therefore are 
those publications, which come to us monthly, 
two-monthly, and half-monthly, stitched in 
colored paper, and containing a heap of things 
They are truly warehouses, filled with a variety 
of wares, manufactured by the joint labor of 
various heads and hands. These wares are 
of divers character, and made of divers mate- 
rials. There is the wooden ware, the iron 
ware, the leaden ware, and even the silver 
and the golden wares. 

Again, if we take the leading definition of 
the word, in our English dictionaries, we shall 
find a magazine to be a store of arms, ammu- 



MAGAZINES. 117 

nition, or provisions. Some of our magazines, 
indeed, notwithstanding their pacific exterior, 
are well filled with arms, with weapons offen- 
sive and defensive. Of ammunition too they 
have a plentiful store. They abound in pow- 
der — at least if we may judge by occasional 
explosions. Lead, too, they have in very 
considerable store. And in materials for 
wadding — or that whereof wadding may be 
created — they are most abundant. As to the 
article of provisions, we believe they are 
usually victualled for a longer or a shorter 
period, according as the public, on which 
they are dependent for supplies, chooses to 
furnish them forth. We have here no particu- 
lar reference to the New York magazines. 
We shall come to them by and by. 

The Gentleman's Magazine published in 
London and we believe the most venerable 
periodical extant, w^as commenced in the year 
1731 ;* having now attained to the age of one 

* We have here followed Thomas's History of Printing. 
Grant, in his Great Metropolis, has detracted two years 
from the age of the Gentleman's Magazine, by fijcing its 
birth in the year 1733. 



118 MAGAZINES. 

hundred and six, and still in a healthy and 
vigorous condition. In its pages Dr. Johnson 
first saw himself in print, after coming, a needy 
adv^enturer to the great metropolis ; and for 
several years subsisted on the small pay he 
received from Cave, its publisher.* 

So long a life in a magazine is little less 
than miraculous. Short has been the date of 
all similar publications in our own country. 
Whether their lives have been merry as well 
as short, their editors and publishers best can 
tell. The career of some two or three — now 
defunct — was at least brilliant, if not merry. 
Such was that of the Port Folio, under the 
management of Dennie, who died in Philadel- 
phia, about the year 1813. Next flourished 
for a short period, in the same city, the Ana- 
lectic Magazine- — bright while it lasted. In 
our city Bryant published the United States 

* What remuneration Johnson got for his contributions, 
does not appear. It was probably — considering the differ- 
ence in the price of hterature in that day and the present — 
not one fourth of what is now paid by the London maga- 
zines, which, Grant informs us, varies from ten to sixteen 
^uiaeas a sheet. 



MAG^AZINE. 119 

Review. But even his fine talents could not 
sustain it, because on the other hand, it would 
jiot sustain him ; and he therefore car- 
red his talents to, a more profitable market, 
in the columns of a daily paper. 

The first magazine, published in this coun- 
try, was in the year 1741, in Philadelphia. 
Boston followed two years after. In both 
these places several magazines w^ere started 
and died previous to the revolution. In New- 
York there was no publication either called, 
or deserving the name of, a magazine, before 
that event. 

The number of magazines, at present in this 
city, may be nine or ten : the principal of 
which are, the Knickerbocker, published by 
Wiley & Long, Clark & Edson proprietors ; 
the American Monthly Magazine, George 
Dearborn ; the Mechanic's Magazine, D. K. 
Minor ; the New York Farmer and American 
Gardener's Magazine, Minor & Schaefer'; the 
Anti-Slavery Magazine, Elizur Wright ; the 
Ladies' Companion, William W. Snowden ; 
the Journal of the American Institute, T. B. 



120 MAGAZINES. 

Wakeman ; and the Naval Magazine, John 
S. Taylor. All these are monthly publica- 
tions, with the exception of the last, which is 
published once in two months ; and the Anti- 
Slavery Magazine which is published quar- 
terly. 

The Knickerbocker and the American 
Monthly are devoted to subjects of general 
literature ; and are made up entirely of origi- 
nal matter : consisting of poetry, prose, es- 
sa3^s on scientific and literary themes, histori- 
cal and fancy sketches, and notices of new 
publications. Both these magazines sustain 
a high character. They have enlisted, and 
still continue to employ, some of the best 
talents in the country. But though their 
general scope is the same, there is neverthe- 
less some diversity in their character. The 
Knickerbocker, to our taste, is rather the 
most agreeable. It has more sprightliness, more 
variety, and more good nature in its critical 
remarks. Both these magazines have now 
subsisted for some years ; having attained 
to eight or nine volumes each ; which is no 
slight achievement in the life of any American 



MAGAZIxVES. 121 

magazine. They are both, we believe, healthy 
and flourishing. The former is edited by 
Willis Gaylord Clark ; the latter, by Charles 
K. Hoffman and Park Benjamin. The price 
of each is $5 per year. 

The course of the Naval Magazine is very 
similar to that of the two above described ; 
the principal difference being a more special 
devotion to subjects connected with the sea. 
Like them it is composed entirely of original 
articles. It is edited by the Rev. E. S. Stew- 
art ; and, though still in its infancy, gives 
promise of eminence. The price is ^3 a 
year. 

The Ladies' Companion is also devoted to 
general literature ; but of a lighter and more 
ladylike kind — consisting m.ore of tales, bits of 
romance, and scenes of love. It is made 
up partly of original and partly of selected 
matter ; and does not burn its fingers with 
criticisims. It is an agreeable and popular 
melange ; has now been living for about three 
years ; and is believed to be in a thriving con- 
dition. The price is $S. 
11 



122 MAGAZINES. 

The Anti-Slavery Magazine is devoted to 
the cause of immediate abolition of slavery in 
the United States. . What encouragement it 
meets with we know not. The price is 
only $1. 

The Mechanics' Magazine — which is also 
a Journal of the Mechanics' Institute — a useful 
association in this city — is devoted, as its name 
indicates, to the dissemination of knowledge 
and improvement in the mechanic arts. It i& 
composed both of original and selected arti- 
cles, and is a work of great value. It has 
reached the 9th volume, healthy and strong. 
The price is $S. 

The New York Farmer and American 
Gardener's Magazine has attained to a still- 
higher age, being now in its tenth year. Its 
character and object are expressed in its 
name. Price $3. 

The Journal of the American Institute is 
devoted to the doings of that distinguished as- 
sociation, and to the general improvement of 
America in manufactures, and the various arts 



MAGAZINES. 123 

of life, both useful and ornamental. It is a 
valuable journal ; but still young, though 
managed by old heads, Its price is ^4, 



CHAPTER XIII. 

NEWSPAPERS. 

Yoa were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report. 

Hamlet. 

The ancients were fond of characterizing the 
several ages of the olden time, by certain me- 
talic epithets : as the golden, the silver, the 
brass, and the iron. Perhaps the present could 
not be better characterized, than by calling it 
the age of newspapers — or the newspaperial age. 
But in giving it this distinctive appellation, we 
would not be understood to hint that the me- 
tals, which gave name to the ages of antiqui- 
ty, should all be excluded from our ideas of 
the present. On the contrary, the gold 
and the silver — yea, and the brass — to say 
nothing of the iron — are exceedingly requi- 
site for the due and successful discharge of 
the newspaperial functions. 



NEWSPAPERS. 125 

How the republics of Greece and Rome 
ever lived, flourished, and made so much 
noise in the world, without newspapers, is, to 
us, very mysterious, It is strange how they 
eould support their free governments : expose 
the tricks of designing knaves ; pull off the 
mask from the sham patriot ; put the bad out 
of office and put the good in ; and advance 
the true interests of the republic ; without the 
efficient aid of an editorial corps. It is equal- 
ly strange how they could manage without 
newspapers, in the important affairs of reli- 
gion, morals, manners, and tastes ; and espe- 
cially how the citizens of Athens and Rome 
could get through a rainy day, pass a long 
winter evening, or make their breakfast, with- 
out a newspaper. 

Never were a people better fitted by cha- 
racter, for the encouragement and support of 
newspapers, than the Athenians : for, St. 
Paul assures us, that they " spent their time 
in nothing else, but either to tell, or to hear 
some neiv thing.^^ There would have been a 
capital chance for the penny-a-liners ; an ex- 
11* 



126 NEWSPAPERS. 

cellent one for "a snapper-up of unconsidered 
trifles ;" and a very general field for the cir- 
culation of horrid accidents and the latest 
specimens of town scandal. An editor, pro- 
perly fitted for his task, might have made his 
fortune at Athens in a very short time. 

But the blessing of newspapers was reserved 
for "the latter days." Immortal Faust I how 
much are we indebted to thee ! Vilely indeed 
hast thou been libelled by those who have 
represented thee as being too familiar with 
the Arch Enemy of man. Such representa- 
tion is, in its very nature, contradictory : for 
the devil — unless his skill and cunning are 
greatly overrated — is not such a blockhead 
as to help mankind to the invention of an art, 
which, in the suppression of ignorance and 
the advancement of morals and religion, is 
every day making greater and greater inroads 
upon his kingdom. 

But though printing was invented as early 
as the middle of the 15th century, newspapers 
seem not to have been thought of, until near 
the close of the 17th, when the first paper 



NEWSPAPERS. 127 

was printed in England — not far from 150 
years ago. 

America was not far behind the mother 
country. To the Bostonians belongs the 
credit of printing the first newspaper on this 
side of the Atlantic. It was commenced on 
the 24th of April, 1704, was entitled The 
Boston News Letter, and was published 
weekly on a half sheet of paper, pot size — by 
John Campbell, bookseller and Postmaster.* 

Philadelphia was fifteen )^ears behind Bos- 
ton, in the introduction of a newspaper. The 
first published there was the American 
Weekly Mercury, by Andrew Bradford, dated 
Dec. 22, 1719. Like its Boston prototype, 
it was on a half sheet of pot paper. 

New- York followed Philadelphia at an in- 
terval of six years ; and Boston at an interval 

*It was veiy common, for some time after the first intro- 
duction of newspapers into the American colonies, for the 
Postmasters in the towns where they were printed, to be 
also the pubhshers. Franklin was Postmaster, as well as 
printer, in Philadelphia. The privileges belonging to the 
former office were doubtless useful in advancing the in- 
terests of the latter. 



128 NEWSPAPERS. 

of twenty-one. William Bradford published 
the first paper in this city, on the 16th of 
October, 1725. It was called The New- 
York Gazette, and was published weekly, 
on a whole sheet of foolscap. Thus, though 
New-York was behind her sister cities in start- 
ing her first newspaper, she greatly exceeded 
them in the size of her pubhcation. 

How must the Philadelphia and Boston 
printers have been astonished at receiving the 
first number of the New-York paper, twice as 
large as their own at the time of birth ! 
Did they not nearly burst with envy ? The 
difference, indeed, was but a few square 
inches ; and would not be noticed in the super- 
ficies of a modern newspaper. But the diffe- 
rence of" a few inches in the length of a man's 
nose" was thought something of in those days 
of moderate views and limited attainments. 

Eight years after the commencement of 
Bradford's paper, John Peter Zenger started 
the New-York Weekly Journal. The first 
number had the imprint of " M^mday, October 
5, 1733.'» 



NEWSPAPERS. 129 

The contrast between the size of the first 
paper published in this city, nearly 112 years 
ago, and those of the present time, is very re- 
markable ; and still more so is the difference 
in the amount of reading contained in the 
papers of these different dates. Bradford's 
Gazette was printed on type of the English 
size. Our modern papers use nothing larger 
than brevier, and set up their advertisements, 
and frequently their editorials, in type much 
smaller. The superficies of Bradford's paper 
was scarcely a twelfth part of that of the size now 
in use. His paper, to use a printer's term, would 
not have contained more than ten thousand 
ems ; while the Courier and Enquirer, or the 
Sunday Morning News, of the present date, 
contains not less than three hundred thousand. 
A man and boy would easily have set up Brad- 
ford's paper, entire, in one day. Whereas it 
would require fifty full grown men to com- 
pose one of our mammoths, entire, in the same 
time. 

Newspapers, a hundred years ago, were 
"good for sore eyes." At least, if they did 



130 NEWSPAPERS. 

not cure, neither did they cause them. They 
could be speedily read, and that without glass- 
es. Now it is a day's work ; and as to the 
eyes — to use the language of a great man. 
their " sufferings is intolerable, and cries aloud 
for relief." But then, on the other hand, it is 
to be hoped, that, as much as the outward 
lights are injured, the inward light will be 
brightened and improved. 

The whole number of papers, published at 
the present time in this city, is about fifty. Of 
these, fourteen are daily ; eight semiweekly ; 
and the remainder, weekl3\ Of the daily 
papers, ten are of the large kind, commonly 
denominated " sixpenny," to distinguish them 
from the smaller, or penny papers. The 
largest of these latter, however, are very little ? 
inferior in size to the smallest of the former. 
There is much more difference in the price, 
than in the size. 

The sixpenny papers are sold, by the single 
copy, for six and a quarter cents, alias a New- 
York sixpence : hence the title. But at the 
yearly .price, of ^10, each paper comes to 



NEWSPAPERS- 131 

about three and a quarter cents. The penny 
papers, as their name implies, are sold for a 
penny a copy. The yearly subscription, when 
sent abroad by mail, is S3. In the city, 
subscribers take them by the week, and 
pay the carrier, every Monday morning, for 
the papers of the previous week. Thus there 
is no hazard in the case of any subscriber, be- 
yond a single sixpence. The carriers pay the 
publisher two thirds of a cent for each copy* 
In addition to these weekly subscriptions, 
many papers are circulated by the boys, who 
sell them about the streets. And in this manner 
the children of many poor people are kept 
from starvation — nay, find profitable employ- 
ment. 

In fact, the introduction of the penny 
press, in this country — -in which New York 
took the lead — deserves to be recorded as an 
important era in the history of our newspa- 
pers. The first successful attempt was made 
by Day & Wisner. They commenced the 
Sun towards the close of 1833, on a medium 
half sheet. Two or three months afterwards. 



132 NEWSPAPERS^ 

the Transcript was begun, of the same size, 
by Hayward Lynde & Stanley. Both these 
papers have since been repeatedly enlarged, 
and now give little indication of their original 
size. The Sun is now published by Benjamin 
H. Day ; the Transcript by Stanley & Prall. , 

Sundry other penny papers have at differ- 
ent times, been ushered into the world, 
breathed a few days, and then died. But, 
being defunct, it is not necessary to name 
them. 

The next living penny publication, viz. the 
Herald — now changed to a two-penny — was 
started in 1835, by James Gordon Bennett ; 
by whom it is still published. The New Era, 
by Locke & Price, followed in 1836. Mr. 
Locke is now sole Editor. 

These four papers, it is believed, circulate 
about 50,000 copies : furnishing employment, 
in printing and distribution to some hundreds 
of persons ; and reading to at least a hundred 
thousand — for it is not saying too much to 
assert that each copy, on an average, finds two 
readers. A large proportion of these copies 



NEWSPAPERS. 133 

go into the hands of those who take no other 
papers; and, were it not for the cheapness of 
these, would be entirely destitute of any spe- 
cies of reading, or of any information in rela- 
tion to public events. 

We may indeed, therefore, call it an impor- 
tant era, when so many thousand persons are 
provided with information, instruction and 
amusement, where there was none of a similar 
kind before. Not only is the mind greatly en- 
larged and improved, but the morals are 
amended — as they always are, where the 
mind is enlightened. By having an agreea- 
ble source of amusement, many persons are 
kept from devoting their leisure hours to bad 
company, to drink, to gaming, and to many 
other vicious, foolish, and unworthy pursuits. 
There are few men, who have not some leisure 
hours, when, if they are not reading, they will 
be very likely — especially in a large city, full 
of dram-shops — to be doing worse. It is inter- 
esting to see thousands of persons as we now 
do daily, poring over a newspaper, who, if they 

could not have one brought to their hand for 
U 



134 NEWSPAPERS. 

a penny, would, in all probability, be at the 
next shop, pouring down liquor— ^and chiefly 
from the mere want of something to do. A 
carter may be now seen sitting on his cart ; 
a barrowman on his barrow ; and a porter at 
his stand : each perusing a penny paper, while 
waiting for a job. 

The sixpenny papers have accused the 
penny press of a mischievous tendency. But 
is knowledge mischievous because it is cheap ] 
The accusers do not make so absurd a charge. 
But they allege against the penny papers, that 
they print false statements, that they circulate 
libels, and that they stir up the mob. The 
penny papers retort the accusation. They 
point to the anti-abolition, and to certain politi- 
cal mobs, and ask, who stirred up these 1 In 
regard to libels, they point to certain prosecu- 
tions, convictions and suits for damages against 
some of the sixpenny editors ; and in regard 
to false statements in general, they say, " Let 
him that is without sin among you, cast the 
first stone." To recriminate, however, even 
where the recrimination is just, is not to 



NEWSPAPERS. 135 

prove one's own innocence. But it does proVe, 
as in the case before us, that the faults, with 
which the penny papers are charged, admitting 
them to exist, are not chargeable upon them 
alone ; but that they are equally shared by 
their older and more aristocratic brethren. 

In regard to stirring up the mob, we can 
scarcely believe that any newspaper, of what- 
ever kind, would designedly be guilty of such 
a crime against the peace of community ; 
though certain articles in its columns, by the 
warmth with which grievances, either real or 
imaginary, are stated — may have a tendency 
to arouse the people to acts of violence and 
outrage. In regard to erroneous statements, 
which happen too often in newspapers, it is 
to be hoped they are generally unintentional ; 
and arise, for the most part, from the hurry 
incident to the business of making up a paper, 
especially a daily one. Of deliberate libels, 
we must say, they are of too foul a nature to 
be charged upon a whole class of publishers, 
whether of a cheap, or a more expensive arv 
tlcle. 



136 NEWSPAPERS. 

We had originally intended to give, not only 
the amount of circulation of all the papers in 
New York, but likewise that of each individual 
paper. We have, however on mature reflec- 
tion, relinquished that design, and for these 
reasons : in the first place, it would be exceed- 
ingly difficult, if not impossible to get at the 
exact truth ; some of the publishers would be 
unwilling to make any such exposure of their 
private affairs, and others would greatly exag- 
gerate respecting the prosperity of theirs : in 
the second place, the truth, if given, might 
prove invidious, and possibly injurious to 
some of the persons concerned, without being 
of any great use to the public ; and lastly, if 
an erroneous statement were put forth, not 
only individuals would be injured, but the 
public would be deceived. 

Our general estimate, it is believed, will 
not differ essentially from the truth ; and if it 
should vary a few hundreds among so many 
thousands, it will, as Thomas Jefferson said 
on a more important subject, *' neither pick a 
man's pocket nor break his leg." 



l^EWSPAPERS. . 137 

The circulation of all the papers in New- 
York is supposed to be about 225,000. Of 
these, 75,000 are assigned to the daily press ; 
20,000, to the semiweekly ; and 130,000, to 
the weekly. To the penny papers — including 
the Herald — ^we have, above, allowed 50,000. 
Perhaps they will something exceed that num- 
ber ; and perhaps the sixpenny dailies will fall 
a little short of 25,000. 

The ten large daily papers are — to com- 
mence with the most venerable in age — the 
New-York Gazette, published by the heirs of 
John Lang, and now in its 49th year ; Courier 
and Enquirer, James Watson Webb ; Jour- 
nal of Commerce, Hale and Hallock ; Mer- 
cantile Advertiser, Amos Butler ; Express, 
Townsend and Hudson. The above are all 
morning papers, and of whig, or opposition, 
politics. The Times, Holland, Sanford, and 
Davies, is also a morning paper ; its poli- 
tics are loyal. The evening papers are the 
Commercial Advertiser, Francis Hall & Co. ; 
American, Charles King ; Evening Star, 
Noah & Gill ; Evening Post, Bryant and 
12* 



138 NEWSPAPERS. 

Others. The three first are Whig ; the latter 
administration. 

The Gazette, the Comraercial Advertiser, 
and the Evening Post were Federal papers, 
in the days when Federalism was ; which days 
ended a little after the close of the last war 
with Great Britain. The Post was distin- 
guished by the contributions of Hamilton, and 
other great men of his party, who flourished 
at the commencement of the present century. 

The penny papers are all published in tiie 
morning ; and eschew politics. The price of 
advertising is ^30 per annum, in all the daily 
papers, both great and small, except the Cou- 
rier and Enquirer, in which paper it has re- 
cently been raised to $50. 

The semiweekly papers being all issued 
from the daily oiBces, most of them bearing 
the same designation as the daily paper, and 
in all cases made up from its columns — it is 
not necessary to particularize. The same 
may be said of some of the weekly papers : 
particularly those issued by the penny press, 
of which each office has its own ; and those 



NEWSPAPERS. 139 

issued at two or three of the sixpenny offices. 
They may in all be estimated at 10,000. 

The circulation of the weekly papers, not 
issued from the daily offices, is believed to be 
not less than 120,000. Of these, about 70, 
000 are published by the diffigrent religious 
presses, of which the following are the prin- 
cipal, namely ; The Christian Advocate and 
Journal, Methodist ; New York Observer, 
Presbyterian ; Protestant Vindicator, Anti- 
Catholic ; New York Evangelist, New Light ; 
Truth Teller, Roman Catholic ; Churchman, 
Episcopalian ; Christian Intelligencer, Dutch 
Reformed ; Zion's Watchman, Abolition- 
Methodist ; Weekly Messenger, not particu- 
larly sectarian. 

The remaining weekly papers, whose cir- 
culation is estimated at 50,000, are of various 
character, as specified below. They are as 
follows : The New York Mirror, George P. 
Morris ; form quarto, character literary, me- 
chanical execution beautiful, contents elegant, 
price $5 : Spirit of the Times, William T. 
Porter; literary and sporting, form quarto, 
size large, contents spirited, price $5 : 



140 NEWSPAPERS. 

New Yorker, Greely, Burke & Fisher ; lite- 
rature and general news, form both folio and 
quarto, politics independent, contents of a 
high order, price $2, and $S : Sunday. 
Morning News, Samuel Jenks Smith ; litera- 
ture and news, size bed-blanket, management 
able and judicious, price $S :* Plain Deal- 
er, William H. Leggett'; imperial octavo, 
literary and political, style vigorous, contents 
original and independent, price $5 : Rail Road 
Journal, Minor & Schaefer ; imperial octavo, 
internal improvements, a highly useful publi- 
cation, price $5: Albion, J. S. Bartlett; quar- 
to, large size, foreign, literature and news, a 
valuable publication, price $G : Emigrant, 
this is also published by J. S. Bartlett ; and, 
as its name impUes, is designed for the use of 
emigrants : the European, published by John 
M* Moore, is also designed for that class of 
our population. 

* This paper, like the penny papers, is sold, in very- 
large numbers, in the streets. The price is sixpence per 
copy. 



NEWSPAPERS. 141 

Taking our previous estimate to be correct, 
the whole number of copies of newspapers, 
published in New York in one week, is 620, 
000 ; and, in one year, 32,240,000 ; which is 
upwards of 10,000,000 more than the whole 
number published in every part of the United 
States, in 1810, according to an estimate in 
Thomas's History of Printing, published that 
year. 

We have hinted at the ability with which 
several of the weekly papers are managed. To 
say that there is much talent in the conduct of 
the dailies, both large and small, will not be 
saying too much. There is, however, a stri- 
king difference between them, not only as to 
the amount but as to the kind of talent em- 
ployed. Original articles of great spirit and 
vigor may be found in some of the large dai- 
lies ; while several others are characterized 
neither by vigor, spirit, nor originality. In 
fact, there is a plentiful lack of industry in 
several of the elderly dailies, which are now 
evidently living on their past reputation. In 
exertions to obtain the earliest foreign intelli- 



142 Newspapers. 

gence and Congressional news, the Courier 
takes the lead. In local news, police reports, 
and city affairs in general, the penn}" papers 
are in the front ground. The praise of in- 
dustry, in this respect, will be conceded to 
them. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 
Of making many books there is no end. 

SoLOMOIf. 

The loaded press beneath her labor groans, 
And printers' devils shake their weary bones. 

Byroit. 

If New York abounds in the ephemeral 
productions of the press — in the " folio of 
four pages" — and the other works which 
come periodically forth, whether daily, weekly, 
or monthly — no less fruitful is she in the more 
enduring productions of paper and type — the 
octavos, the duodecimos, the eighteens, the 
twenty-fours, the thirty-twos, the forty-eights, 
the ninety-sixes, and so on, even up to the 
one hundred and twenty-eights. We are not 
certain, indeed, that the printers of this city 
ever proceed so far as the imposition of tri-- 



144 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

fling matters like the last named ; but at the 
same time we would not advise any body to 
dispute their ability to do so, if they choose. 

In nicety of printing we cannot say that 
they always equal the best ; but that is not so 
much their fault as that of their employers. 
Give them fair type, good ink, excellent pa- 
per, correct proof readers, and time enough 
to execute their work properly , and if it be 
not well done, we will own ourselves to be 
greatly disappointed. 

Does Boston exceed New York in her ty- 
pography ] We are afraid it must be confessed. 
But then she uses all the 

" appliances and means to boot," 

that are requisite for producing good work : 
which is merely saying, in other words, that 
she has more regard for neatness, beauty, 
and all those things which belong to the proper 
mechanism of book-making, than is generally 
to be found among the publishers of New York 
Some very admirable work, however, has 
been executed by the press of this city, within 



BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 145 

a year or two. Such in particular is the folio 
edition of the Common Prayer, published by 
Conner & Cooke ; and such are some of the 
works issued from the press of George Dear- 
born, of Harper & Brothers, &c. &c. In 
binding', New York may safely challenge any, 
or all, of the cities in the United States. We 
have seen nothing superior in strength, beauty, 
richness, and taste, to the binding executed by 
Heman Griffin, of this city. 

But this, it must be confessed, is rather an 
exception to the binding generally inflicted on 
our books ; many of which fall to pieces on 
the first reading ; or, if they do not actually 
suffer that catastrophe, are so twisted out of 
all shape, so loosened in their leaves, and so 
evidently ready to go '* the way of all the 
earth," that you are actually afraid they will 
perish in your hands, before you have fairly 
read them through. 

We speak now more especially of what is 

called the cheap binding ; which is mostly of 

cloth, and has within a few years taken the 

place of the former binding in boards : a spe- 

13 



146 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

cies of binding still much used by the princi- 
pal publishers in Philadelphia ; and, so far at 
least, quite inferior to that of our own pub- 
lishers. 

It must be confessed, indeed, that the cheap 
binding of the present day, however slight, is 
a decided improvement over the binding in 
boards, which w^as in common use, for novels 
and other light works, ten years ago. Another 
very decided improvement, both in appearance 
and value, is the lettering on the cloth with 
gold leaf, instead of labelling the books with 
paper. 

But the worst feature in modern publishing 
— and in this respect the Philadelphia publish- 
ers beat ours — is the vile paper on which most 
of the books are printed. Made of bad mate- 
rials, badly wove, and so thin as to be very 
nearly transparent, it is not surprising that the 
pages of a book, made of such paper, should 
cut a very scandalous figure ; and, when print- 
ed on small type, with bad ink, and a machine 
press, should be nearly illegible. 



BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 147 

Great fault is found with some of our publish- 
ers, in respect to bad paper. But then they 
compare their books with those of Philadel- 
phia ; and pointing one finger to the brown 
paper of the latter, and another to the fairer 
complexion of their own flimsy materials, tri- 
umphantly exclaim, " Behold the difference !'* 
True, a difference there is ; but it is only a 
difference in badness. 

The public, however, may thank them- 
selves for all the bad paper, bad printing, and 
bad book work of all kinds, of which the pre- 
sent age is guilty. If they will purchase 
cheap books, they must take the consequence 
They cannot reasonably expect, for half price, 
to obtain a whole-priced article. 

It has happened very strangely in regard 
to books — and indeed to all kinds of publica- 
tions — that they have been constantly getting 
lower in price, while all other commodities 
have been getting higher. The newspaper 
has increased to twice its size, without adding 
to its price ; and books, which were formerly 



148 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

sold for two dollars, are now sold for only 
one — and not iinfrequently for half a one ! 

The book trade, at the best, is one of little 
profit and great hazard. The extensive pub- 
lisher, who is careful to print only such books 
as will sell, and to sell them only to such per- 
sons as will pay for them, may make money. 
Those publishers, on the other hand, who 
venture upon every thing that is new, print 
doubtful works, and sell them to doubtful cus- 
tomers, can scarcely fail, in a very short time, 
of making a complete failure. But it is the 
retailers, who in general suffer most, or whose 
case is most to be commiserated : because, 
let them manage with what prudence they 
may, they must suifer great loss ; especially if 
Ithey are forward to procure all the new pub- 
lications, and to have the freshest literary 
goods in the market. Alas ! for their obliging 
disposition, and their zeal to accomodate their 
friends and the public ! The literary novel- 
ties, which were quite fresh when they got 
ihem, will, a very large part of them, be stale 
lenough before they find purchasers. They 



BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 149 

remain on the shelves, year after year, a per- 
petually accumulating mass : and no living 
creature takes a fancy to them ; except it be 
the flies, for a convenient resting place ; or the 
moths and the mice, for the nutriment they 
may extract from their binding, and the nests 
they may form of their leaves. 

Reader, look in, some day, upon the stock 
of a large retail dealer, who has been in busi- 
ness ten or fifteen years. Cast your eye to 
the highest shelves, and then again to the low- 
est. Look also into all the odd corners and 
by-places. And you will see verified what I 
have mentioned. You will see thousands of 
unsaleable volumes, for which the bibliopole 
has paid a high price, and which he cannot 
sell again at any price ; except it be beneath 
the hammer of the auctioneer, and then only 
at a fifth part of their first cost — deducting 
therefrom the auctioneer's commission of ten 
per cent. And yet, with their small profits 
and great losses, we know not that failures 
have been much more frequent among book- 
sellers than among the dealers in other com- 



150 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

modities. In half a dozen years, there have 

not been, in New York, so far as we recollect, 

more than half a dozen failures in the book 

trade. This may seem strange. But if we 

might account for it by what seems a para^ 

dox, we should say in regard to most of the 

dealers in books, that they cannot do business 
enough to fail. 

The number of booksellers, of all kinds, in 
this city, is about sixty. Of these about fifty 
do business within doors, and the remainder 
without. These last, though their trade is 
small and their gains small, are the most indcr 
pendent of bibliopoles. They are in no dan- 
ger of being turned out of doors by the ava - 
rice or the caprice of their landlords ; and if 
driven by any untoward circumstances from 
the corner of one street, they have only to re- 
move their book store, alias their stand, to the 
corner of another, and proceed with their bu- 
siness as before. Several booksellers, now 
doing a large indoor business, in this city, first 

began by doing a small one in the open 
Etreet, 



BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 15i 

The number of publishers in New York, 
not engaged in the general book-trade, is not 
above five or six. The principal of these are 
Harper & Brothers, George Dearborn, Con- 
ner &: Cooke, Saunders & Otley, and Charles 
Wells. Others — as Collins. Keese & Co., 
Leavitt & Lord, the Brothers Carvill, Daniel 
Appleton, John S. Taylor, &c. &;c. who are 

general booksellers, also publish more or 

less. 

But it is believed that the amount of books, 
published by Harper & Brothers, equal, if it 
do not exceed, that of all other publishers in 
this city. We are informed, that the num- 
ber of volumes of all sorts, issued by them in 
a single year, is not less then one million. Last 
year, they published about 200,000 volumes 
of original American works. 

This, of itself — allowing there were no other 
publishers of our home manufacture — would 
be pretty good evidence that there is, at the 
present day, no very plentiful lack of Amerj^ 
can authorship. And if it should still be ask- 
ed by some British critic — as it was a few 



152 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

years ago — " who reads an American book?" 
it can scarcelj' be a question at least, who pub- 
lishes one. 

But American authorship has risen very 
materially in the English market, of late years. 
And so, indeed, has American actorship, if we 
may judge by the success of Forrest, Miss Chf- 
ton, Yankee Hill, and Jim Crow. Time was, 
when all our actors, as well as all our books, 
were imported. But now our exports — at 
least in actors — nearly equal our imports ; 
and should the reflux of the dramatic trade 
continue as it has begun, the balance will in a 
short time be in favor of America. 

But, to return to the great publishing house 
of Harper & Brothers. Though these gentle- 
men publish so much, they are exceedingly 
cautious as to the character of their publica- 
tions. As certain kings and great men, of 
whom we read, used, in former times, to keep 
a taster, whose business it was to see that 
the food was not poisoned : so do Harper & 
Brothers employ a reader, to vrhose critical 
judgment and moral taste are subjected all 



BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. 153 

new works, whether American or imported ; 
and without whose sanction none of these 
works are ever permitted to see the hght. 
This course is judicious, on more accounts 
than one. It not only insures the purity of 
the moral, and the briskness of the intellect- 
ual, atmosphere, as far as the press of Harper 
& Brothers is concerned ; but also provides ef- 
fectually against the assertion that their books 
" are never read." 

The publications of the Harpers are o f all 
classes, 

" From grave to gay, from lively to severe." 

Those of Leavitt and Lord are mostly religious. 
Those of Dearborn are chiefly works of stand- 
ard literature. So are those of Wells, and of 
Conner and Cooke. Collins, Keese, & Com- 
pany publish mostly elementary and school 
books. But the principal part of the business 
of this latter firm is in the wholesale book 
trade ; in which they doubtless do a larger busi- 
ness than any other house in the United States, 
They deal mostly in American books : pur^ 



154 BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS. | 

chasing from publishers in every part of the 
Union, and selling again to booksellers in 
every part. 

But the most profitable book trade in the 
city is, perhaps, that of James E. Cooley, un- 
der the hammer. His trade sales are semi- 
annual — in March and in September. They 
usually continue each about a vi^eek, during 
which time his auction room is crowded with 
booksellers from all parts of the Union ; and 
the amount of books, stationery, and printing 
materials, which exchange hands, is immense. 



CHAPTER XV. 

CITY GOVERNMENT. 
Like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side. — ^As you like it. 

The form of our city government does not 
very materially differ from that established by 
the Dutch, in the days of Governor Van Twil- 
ler. Then the Council consisted of two 
boards, namely, the Burgermeesters and the 
Schepens. Our Common Council, in like 
manner, consists of two boards, to wit, the 
Aldermen and Assistant Aldermen. The 
Dutch corporation, as we are informed by 
the "only authentic history of New York," was 
composed of fat men. The corporation of 
the present day will likewise be found to be in 
good bodily condition. The business of the 
schepens was to assist the burgermeesters. 
The business of our assistant aldermen is to 
assist the aldermen. 



156 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

So far they seem very perfectly to agree : 
their outward form and apparent use being the 
same. The principal difference is in the spirit 
and mode of operations. The Dutch sche- 
pens, saith the " only authentic history," were 
appointed to help the burgermeesters eat, 
drink, and smoke. It was also a part of their 
duty to fill the pipes and laugh at the wit of 
the superior board. In this latter respect, our 
assistant aldermen have a far easier task : for 
our worthy aldermen, so far as we ever heard, 
never perpetrate wit ; and there is no filling 
of pipes, for the fathers of the city now smoke 
segars. 

But the duties of both boards, in these lat- 
ter days, differ very materially from those of 
the golden age of Wouter Van Twiller. 
They are now obliged to legislate, as well as 
to eat and drink. They have now appoint- 
ments to make, other than those of dining, 
supping, and smoking. They are now bodies 
of some power, and not the mere appendages 
of the chief magistrate. They have now 
three hundred thousand people,of " every na- 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 157 

tion, kindred, and tongue," to take care of, 
instead of a few quiet, easy Dutchmen. 

The city of New York consists, at present, 
of seventeen Wards ; a new ward having, 
with great wisdom, been recently created. 
We say with great wisdom, because the num- 
ber of wards should always be odd : especially 
where the division of parties is nearly even. 
An odd number — as every good woman 
knows, in the hatching of ducks and gos- 
lings—is apt to be most fortunate. No less 
so is it in the hatching of municipal affairs : 
as the two boards of 1836 found, to their 
cost ; but much more to the cost of their con- 
stituents. The parties being equally divided in 
each board, came very near never coming to a 
choice of their presiding officers. For many 
weeks they balloted, night after night ; and came 
no nearer a choice than when they first began. 
The result was perpetually, "eight and eight." 
Neither the Whigs would yield, nor the Tam- 
manies. The people were loud in their cen- 
sures ; the papers were vocal in their dis- 
14 



158 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

praise. The affairs of the city were " at sixes 
and sevens." The Government was nearly 
at a stand ; and the people began to despair. 
Luckily, the Fourth of July was drawing 
on : and it was indispensably necessary that 
the two boards should organize, a httle pre- 
vious to that day, in order to vote themselves 
a public dinner, and make due provision for 
all the arrangements of cookery, of wine, 
punch, and segars. They grew suddenly pa- 
triotic. " It is a pity," said they, " that the 
interests of the people should suffer, by reason 
of our party feuds. We must organize and 
proceed to business. It will not do to neg- 
lect our constituents, whatever our political 
opinions may be. We must give way a little, 
in party matters — especially in the present 
emergency." So the aldermen elected a Tam- 
many man president; and the assistants ele- 
vated a Whig. 

So happy an end was put to this famous 
division of " eight and eight." But it was re- 
solved not to be so caught again, for want of 
an odd number in each board. The legisla- 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 159 

ture was applied to, and graciously granted 
the prayer of the city for a new ward. 

We have assigned to the corporation of 
New York some power, and also the duties of 
legislation. Power they certainly have, over 
butchers' stalls, dram-shops, street inspec- 
tors, town pumps, and many other things 
within the city, as well as the waters of 
the two rivers : reaching even to the city of 
Jersey on the one side, and the city of Brook- 
lyn on the other. Concerning these matters 
they can legislate. But for many weighty 
and important concerns, they might as well be 
without any power. They hold a very lim- 
ted charter — as is seen in the case of the new 
ward ; for the erection of which they were 
obliged to ask leave of their superiors at Al- 
bany. As though it were a matter of any 
consequence to the state of New York, 
whether the number of wards were more or 
less in the city of New York ! A charter is 
not worth having, unless it gives power to 
transact all necessary business for the interests 
of the city ; not contravening any law of the 
state or the United States. Yet such is the 



160 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

condition of this great city : her hands are so 
tied up ; she is so helpless — so unable to do 
any important thing of herself — that she is 
obliged to be running every year to Albany, 
to ask leave of the state legislature to draw 
her breath freely and at ease. She had bet- 
ter in the next amendment of her charter have 
" grace said over the whole barrel" at once, 
;and done with it. 

But if our worthy corporation are some- 
what stinted in the number and variety of 
their powers, they cannot be called niggardly 
in the exercise of such as they possess : as 
those in office, when power changes hands, 
are able to testify. Being, as our motto hath 
it, " like an ill roasted egg, all on one side," 
this power operates less for the good of the 
city, than for the gratification of party pre- 
judice, party views, and party " monopoly of 
the spoils." The incumbents then feel the 
power of the corporation. The operation of 
joint ballot comes ; the old placemen are dis- 
placed, from the greatest to the least, and 
new ones placed in their room. " Is he 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 161 

honest, is he capable, is he faithful ]" These 
trifling questions are^never asked. It is more 
to the point to know on which side he voted, 
how many votes he brought with him to the 
poll, and how many speeches he made prior 
to, and at the election. Political virtue never 
looks to the good of the people, but to the ad- 
vantages of the party. Ingratitude to faithful 
friends and staunch partisans, is not, at least 
in our day, among the number of political 
sins. " To the victors belong the spoils," and 
the successful leaders, dare not be niggardly, 
or stray from party bounds, in their distribu- 
tion. 

Though the character of a New York cor- 
poration is, in general, that of perfect one- 
sidedness ; the two boards of '36, as we have 
already seen in the affair of " eight and eight," 
were as two-sided as could well be desired. 
The only thing they ever cordially agreed on 
was the great anniversary dinner above named. 
The old placemen remained in place, because 
the parties were too much divided to agree 
on the substitution of new ones. 
14* 



162 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

It must be said, to the credit of all the boards 
with which New York has for many years 
been blessed, that, however they may neglect 
the minor concerns of the city, they never fail 
to pay proper attention to the interesting sub- 
ject of the great annual dinner on the Fourth 
of July. They invariably appropriate money, 
to feed themselves on that occasion ; and their 
patriotism is shown, not less by the amount 
than the regularity of the appropriation. For 
the sum, they seem to have a standing rule. 
It is just ^2000 : certainly a very Hberal allow- 
ance for dining so small a body of men, 
though they be aldermen, assistants, and 
mayor to ^boot. 

Let us make a slight calculation of the ex- 
pense per head — or rather the expens.e per 
belly. The seventeen wards choose seventeen 
aldermen and seventeen assistants — making 
thirty-four in all. Add the mayor, and — al- 
lowing he only counts one, the same as an 
alderman — you have a total of thirty-five. Di- 
vide $2000 by thirty-five, and you have a 
quotient of $57 and some odd cents ; which 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 16 



Q 



is just the expense per man, of the great 
patriotic dinner. But suppose we add to these 
chiefs, some of the underlings of the corpora- 
tion — such as the clerks of the two boards, 
and the doorkeepers ; and even throw in the 
commissioner of the alms-house : the whole 
only amount to forty ; which being made the 
divisor of the $2000, gives a quotient of just 
$50 to each man. 

What these gentlemen eat, or what they 
drink — never having had the honor to dine 
with them, we positively cannot inform our 
readers. But we think they will agree with 
us, that it must be a very capital dinner in- 
deed, that costs ffty dollars. 

If any reader should marvel how the cor- 
poration dare thus sport with the people's 
money — thus lavish it on themselves, even to 
the amount of a fifty-dollar dinner : we beg 
he will consider, for one moment, who our 
corporation are ; and, moreover, what remu- 
neration they get for all their toils and exer- 
tions in the cause of the people. Like the 
members of the British Parliament, they re- 



164 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

ceive no pay. The only emolument they get, 
is the honor and glory of being aldermen and 
assistants. If they could not, with all this 
patriotic sacrifice, vote themselves a grand 
dinner once a year, and now and then an ex- 
tra lunch at the alms-house — as they are ac- 
customed to do — their office, save in the re- 
ceipt of honor and glory, would be an empty 
affair indeed. The mayor's duties are not so 
entirely gratuitous. His salary is ^3000. 

Formerly that officer was chosen by the 
two boards. But the people, believing them- 
selves to be as competent to the choice of a 
mayor as of common council, sent, one winter 
— some three or four years ago — post haste 
to Albany, and got their charter amended ; 
since which they have been freemen in full. 

Formerly, also, the common council con- 
sisted of only a single board, namely, the al- 
dermen. The entire weight of our city affairs 
rested on their shoulders — even to the eating, 
without assistants, of the great annual dinner. 
We never heard, however, that they com- 
plained of this. On the contrary, they bore 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 165 

the burden patiently, and discharged their duty 
with all becoming diligence. We never heard, 
even, that they asked for any assistants, or 
demanded the aid of a second board. The 
first idea of providing them help, we believe, 
originated with the people. The aldermen, in 
fact, were so satisfied with their laborious du- 
ties, and so confident of their ability to dis- 
charge them without any aid, that they were 
quite scandalized at the idea of an additional 
board. They insisted upon continuing, as 
they had done, to bear all the burden, and take 
all the responsibility. But the people would not 
allow it. They had too much of the proper 
kind of feeling, to be willing to "work a free 
horse to death." You shall have assistants, 
said they ; and to Albany they went, as usual, 
and obtained leave to erect a new board. 

The mayor, aldermen, and assistants of New 
York, are chosen annually, on the 2d Tuesday 
of April ; or to speak more properly, they be- 
gin to be chosen on that day ; for they do 
not fairly succeed in getting in, until two 
days afterwards. So great an affair is an elec^ 



166 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

tion in the " empire state." Think of it, ye 
Bostonians who begin and end your elections 
on the same day. Think of it, ye Philadel- 
phians, who get through with yours with the 
like expedition. What petty affairs must they 
be, and how slightly executed, when so short 
a time suffices for their completion. Come 
hither some leisure day, if you would see an 
election done up in magnificent style. 

Such crowding ! — such jostling ! — such 
pushing ! — such swearing ! — you would sup- 
pose the whole thing were to be done in a 
single day, and that the freemen were pushing 
so to get in their votes, because they were 
pushed for time. No such thing. We have 
just said they have three days allowed them. 
But the truth is, the more they swear the less 
they do. It is not, as in Boston, " Walk up, 
Gentlemen! walk up, and deposite your 
votes!" But it is, ''Keep them back, constable ! 
keep them back ! Dont let them scrouge up 
to the poll so 1" 

To get in 60 votes an hour, is a very thriv- 
ing business in New York. Some wards, in- 



CITY GOVERNMENT. 167 

deed, have exceeded it, where the presiding 
officers have been dexterous, and where there 
was very little challenging and less swearing. 
These are apt to take up a great deal of time • 
especially in those very contested elections, 
where votes, that are even known to be legal, 
are disputed. Such was the case a year or two 
since, when the votes of Philip Hone and other 
distinguished citizens, who were born and had 
lived to a good old age in the city, were chal- 
lenged. The privilege of challenge was de- 
signed to secure the purity of elections; but in 
cases like the above named, it is rendered 
purely vexatious. 

A further security against illegal votes is 
proposed by the requirement of an oath in 
disputed cases. How small is the value of 
this security, may be easily imagined, when 
we take into consideration, that the rogue who 
offers a false vote, is not very likely to be re- 
strained by conscientious scruples from swear- 
ing it in. " I woted this wery day in seven 
wards," said a fellow, at a late election, " and 
I 'sign to wote in all the 'tothers, to-morrow 



168 CITY GOVERNMENT. 

and next day, if they'll o'ny pay me gine-* 
rously." 

" Pay you !" 

" Yes : you don't think I'd trampoose about 
from poll to poll, for nothin, do you 1" 

" How much do you get for each vote ?' 

" Two shill'ns, and somethin to drink." 

" Cheap enough too." 

" I'll be hanged if 'taint. And yet it's better'ii 
nothin. 'Tis'nt every man what's made fourteen 
shill'ns to day. Have you done't, mister ?" 

*^ Indeed I have not. But how do you 
work it to get in so many votes *?" 

^' Oh, I swears 'em in." 

Some honest citizens of New York have 
tried hard to obtain a law for the registry of 
voters : to obviate the necessity of challeng- 
ing, to do away with the profane practice of 
swearing, and at the same time secure the 
purity of elections. But such a law would 
prove ruinous to the trade in politics ; and 
therefore cannot reasonably be expected to 
pass. 



CHAPTER XVL 

CONDITION OF THE STREETS, 

But let me scrape the dirt away. 

John Gilpii?, 

The condition of the streets, in a great city^ 
is of very great importance, because on that 
condition depends the comfort and conve- 
nience of a great many persons. We will 
suppose, that of the 300,000 inhabitants of 
New York, only one tenth, on an average, are 
in the streets at a time : then there are, at 
once, 30,000 persons suffering annoyance if 
the condition of the streets be bad ; or enjoy- 
ing their walks, their rides, and their business 
operations, if that condition be good. 

"New York, I perceive" — said a gentleman 

the other day, scraping the mud from Jiis 

boots — " still holds her own. She had, as far 

back as I can remember, the reputation of 

15 



170 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 

being the dirtiest city in the Union ; and she 
maintains it still. I have been recently in 
Boston, Philadelphia, BaUimore, and several 
other cities ; but I have seen nothing in the 
way of foul streets, to compare vrith New 
York." 

A preeminence in dirt ! This was more 
than we had looked for , more certainly than 
we desired to claim. A superiority in many 
other respects we would have contended for — 
nay insisted upon, were it with our last 
breath. In commerce we would have chal- 
lenged comparison with all the other cities in 
the Union, in a lump. In wealth, in popula- 
tion, in theatres, in churches, in magazines, 
in newspapers, and in twenty other things, we 
would have asserted and maintained, vi et ar- 
mis, our decided superiority. Even in the 
matter of streets, we would have claimed the 
longest, the broadest, and the handsomest. 
But for preeminence in dirt, it came not into 
our head, that our beloved city, our darling 
New York, had any thing wonderful to boast. 

True, in former times, we knew wherea- 



CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 171 

bouts she stood, on that score. We knew 
that she was as deep in the mud as any other 
city could be in the mire. The newspapers 
were full of the uncleanliness of her ways. 
Children were said to have been buried ahve 
in her miry depths.*' 

* The following appeared in a New York paper of 1829 : 
LOST IN THE MUD. 

SCENE — ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL STREETS OF NEW YORK. 

Mother, [wilh a stick poking in the mud.] Ah, me ! I'm 
sure he's here aboutssome where, the dear cratur, and if I 
ounly had a longer stick, so that I could poke down a little 
grain deeper, I should find the darling ! 

Walker. What have you lost, gpod woman ? llending 
the aid of his cane to assist in the search."] 

M. Och, bless your kind soul ! it's my swate little child, 
my darling Jemmy, that's lost in the mud. 

W. A child lost in the mud, in the city of New York ? 
impossible ! The woman's crazy. 

M. Ah, I'm sure he must be here — jist here abouts, 
where I saw him trying to cross a minute ago — Och, the 
darling ! Jemmy ! Jemmy ! [^elevating her voice.] Jemmy ! 
my darling, if you're under the mud, spake ! ^putting 
doion her ear to listen.] 

W. How old was your boy ? 

M. Och, indeed, he was but five years ould jist, come 
next Michaelmas, that is to be. 



172 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 

But this should hardly be taken for gospel. 
Some allowance should be made for the dis- 

W. And do you think a child five years old could be 
lost in the mud here ? 

M. Ah, what is there to hinder, sure? And if you'll jist 
stick your cane down here, won't you light upon him ? 
Aisy, aisy, bless your heart, or may be you'll hurt the darl- 
ing. 

Voice. \^From below ^ somewhat smothered andindistinct.'\ 
A little lower — there — there — sl- grain lower, and I can 
reach it. 

M. Och, the darUng ! there he is, sure enough. Don't 
try to talk, Jemmy, or may be you'll git your swate Uttle 
mouth full o' mud. 

V. {^Like one talking with a mouthful of mush. '\ There, 
now, I've got hold of it — pull, now ! pull ! 

M. Yes, bless your kind heart, do pull ! 

V. Uts ! my hand has slipped — a little lower — there, I 
guess I can hold on with both hands. Now pull ! 

M: Ay, now pull ! 

V. Aisy ! Aisy ! 

M. Hold fast, Jemmy ! Och, my darUng, there he 
comes ! Spet the mud out o' your mouth, Jemmy, and then 
thank the jontleman for hilping ye out. Lord love your 
swate soul, Mister, whoever you are, for saving my child. 
And Jemmy, my dear Jemmy, listen to your mother, and 
never try again to cross the streets of this blessed city, till 
you're big enough to hilp yourself out o' the mud, jist, my 
darling. 



CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 173 

position of editors to exaggerate — to run into 
the forbidden fields of romance. But after 
all, it must be owned, that, until within a 
few years, New York was shamefully dirty. 
Even as late as*- the year '32, she had not 
greatly improved. The first thorough clean- 
sing she ever had, was in the summer of that 
year ; and for this cleansing the cholera is to 
be thanked. 

Walter Bowne, the mayor of that year, 
having, while the cholera was on its way from 
Canada, issued his proclamation, forbidding 
its entrance into his domains : and the 
cholera, in its victorious march, having paid 
no regard to this paper prohibition ; the fathers 
of the city began to bethink themselves of 
abating the fury and shortening the stay of 
that dread enemy, as much as possible, by di- 
vesting the city of that foul aliment on which 
the pestilence delights to feed. 

They resolved to clean the streets; and 

the streets were cleaned. For the first time, 

within the memory of living man, the stones 

of the pavements every where showed their 

15* 



174 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 

heads. The rain had occasionally washed 
them bare, where its operations were assisted 
by a goodly descent towards the rivers on 
either side. But, in the more level streets, 
the stones, after having once been fixed by 
the pavior, rarely had shown themselves again 
to mortal eyes. In 1832, after the arrival of 
the cholera, they were first scraped and swept 
clean ; and the filth carted away. 

Formerly there were no street scavangers. 
There was a law requiring each householder 
as often, we believe, as once a week to sweep 
beft)re his own door ; not only the side-walk, 
but also halfway across the street, where his 
opposite neighbor was to meet him. The dirt, 
swept in heaps, was to be carried away by 
the carts. What was the penalty for non- 
sweeping or non-carrying away, we do not re- 
collect. But we well remember that the 
householders swept as often as they pleased ; 
and for the matter of being carried away, the 
dirt often remained in heaps for several days ; 
or rather the heaps were trodden and scatter- 
ed about again ; and required to be swept 



CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 175 

and collected anew. The result was as we 
have seen : the streets were never once per- 
fectly cleansed. 

How surprised, then, were the citizens of 
New York, in the summer of '32, to behold 
the tidiness of their streets. " Where in 
the world did all these stones come from .^" 
said an old lady who had lived all her life in 
the city ; *' I never knew that the streets were 
covered with stones before. How very 
droll !" 

But the cleanliness of New York, during that 
cholera summer, it must be confessed, was in 
part ascribable to the want of business and the 
scarcity of inhabitants : the first having al- 
most entirely disappeared, and the latter in 
great numbers, by reason of the pestilence. 
Seventy-five thousand human beings, and 
several thousand horses, carts, and other vehi- 
cles, make a very considerable difference in the 
generation of street-dirt. Having been once, 
therefore, thoroughly swept and cleansed, it 
was comparatively easy to keep the streets 



176 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 

clean, until the return of the inhabitants and 
the revival of business. 

" It is an ill wind that blows nobody good ;" 
a character which certainly cannot be fasten- 
ed on the wind, which brought the cholera 
hither. Though New York had to lament 
the removal of 3,500 of her inhabitants, 
she had also to rejoice at the removal of many 
thousand loads of filth, which, but for the 
sweeping pestilence, might have remained to 
this day. 

New York has never entirely 'relapsed into 
those abominably dirty habits, for which she 
was so long notorious. Her system of street 
management is improved. Regular scaven- 
gers are now employed ; and they may be 
seen, sometimes, busily engaged with their 
hoes and their brooms. It cannot strictly be 
said, therefore, in the language quoted at the 
beginning of this chapter, that " New York 
still holds her own" in the way of dirt — if 
this " own" refer to her possession of that ar- 
ticle previous to the year 1832. She is, at 
least fifty per cent more tidy than she was 
previous to that date. 



CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 177 

But she is still quite too much of a slattern. 
She ought to add another fifty per cent to her 
cleanliness, to render her anywise decent, and 
fit to receive strangers. When the Bostoni- 
ans and the Philadelphians visit us, they should 
have no occasion to turn up their noses at our 
city while they stay, and " shake off the dust 
from their feet, as a testimony against us," 
when they depart. They should not even 
have it in their power, in the language of 
honest Dogberry, to make " odorous compa- 
risons" between their cities and ours. 

As we are a great city : as we take the 
lead in commerce, gaiety, fashion, bustle, and 
the earliest foreign news : so we ought also 
to set the example of cleanliness and proprie- 
ty, in all matters appertaining to the streets. 
Instead of its being said of any place, by way 
of opprobrium, " it is as filthy as New York," 
we ought to give occasion to all respectable 
places to say, by way of self-commendation, 
" we are as clean as New York." But if we 
cannot set the example of cleanliness to 
other cities, we ought not to be above taking 
it from them. 



178 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 

The fault of New-York lies not so much, 
at present, we believe, in the mode, as in the 
means, of keeping the streets in order. The 
fault is not so much in the street inspectors, 
as in those under whose orders they act. 
However attentive to their duties, however 
desirous to make clean their ways, they cannot 
do what they would, if money be wanting. 
The scavengers and the carters must be paid ; 
and the means must be provided by the com- 
mon council. We cannot ask them to forego 
their annual two-thousand dollar dinner ; we 
cannot deprive them of the pleasure of an oc- 
casional lunch at the alms house ; for these are 
the only solid fruits of all their official toils 
and exertions. But we would just ask them 
to appropriate money enough to do, thorough- 
ly, what they undertake to do ; and what the 
world shames them for not doing : that is, keep 
the streets clean — habitually clean — and tho- 
roughly clean 



CHAPTER XVII. 

WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

Why in quest 
Of foreign vintage, insincere, audmixt, 
Traverse th' extreraest world ? 

Philips. 

Or water all the quorum ten miles round. 

Pope. 

The story is well known of, that unfortu- 
nate Hibernian, who, being afflicted with a 
fever, "lay six weeks in the long month of 
August, spacheless, crying continually, * wa- 
ther ! wather ! wather !' " 

The cry of the citizens of New- York for 
water — " pure and wholesome water" — has 
been equally unceasing; but it has differ- 
ed in several respects from that of the poor 
Irishman. Instead of being speechless they 
have cried aloud. And instead of confining 



180 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

their cry to the month of August, or any other | 
month, they have been clamoring for the whole 
year round, and for many years in succession^ 
There is not perhaps in the Union a city more 
destitute of the blessing of good water than 
New- York. 

The present supply, such as it is, comes 
from three sources, to wit : the town pumps, 
the Manhattan Company, and Knapp's spring. 
To this we should add a fourth source, namely, 
the clouds ; from which the chief supply for 
washing is obtained. 

The town pumps are conveniently situated 
at the corners of the streets, every where 
throughout the city; so that no person who is 
athirst, need perish for want of water, if he 
will take the trouble of walking the length of 
a square. If he stand in need of physic at the j 
same time, the pump will furnish that also — 
without money and without price. Besides 
the virtue derived from the neighboring sinks, 
the pump-water is also impregnated with cer- 
tain saline properties, which render it peculi- 
arly efficacious in certain compldints. 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 181 

m 

Little less so is that — if we may judge from 
lis peculiar hue and taste— which comes from 
the Collect ; and is called Manhattan water. 
This is ready pumped up to the people's hands, 
by the Manhattan Banking Company, which 
was chartered many years ago, for the purpose 
of supplying the city with '' pure and whole- 
some water." Not that the people get it 
gratis, as they do the town pump beverage. 
But they can have it brought to their houses in 
pipes, on application to the Manhattan Com- 
pany, and paying the regular price. The 
pumping up of this water from the depths of 
the Collect, is an expensive affair. It requires 
the constant employment of a powerful steam 
engine, and the constant operation of a still 
more powerful banking company; which com- 
pany is provided with a perpetual charter to 
issue bank bills and discount notes. By per- 
petual, meaning of course, as long as they 
shall keep the great steam pump in operation. 
With such an inducement to keep their stream 
of " pure and wholesome water" constantly 
running, it is not likely that this source will 
16 



182 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

soon fail. But *' pure and wholesome" as it 
is, by the express terms of the charter, the 
people generally prefer that from the town 
pumps, except for the purposes of washing; 
and for that, most people use rain water. 

The third source, namely Knapp's Spring, 
furnishes the only tolerable water in the cit3% 
This is conveyed about the streets in hogs- 
heads, and sold, we believe, at a penny a gal- 
Jon. Small as this price seems, their supply 
of spring water, we are informed, costs some 
of the larger hotels more than ^300 each, per 
annum. The hotels, boarding houses, and 
respectable private families make use of this 
water for tea, coffee, and ordinary drink. 
The poor all resort to the street pumps. 

Such is, such has been, and such is likely 
to be for some years to come, the condition of 
New York, in regard to the indispensable ar- 
ticle of water.* The great difficulty in sup- 

* What we have said above, of the New York supply of 
water, relates only to that for the domestic and ordinary 
uses of our citizens. The supply for the extinguishing of 
fires is derived chiefly from the Reservoir, at the comer of 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 183 

plying the city properly — that is, plentifully 
and with a good article — is the very great dis- 
tance from which it must be brought. Various 
projects have from time to time been started, 
examined, discussed, debated, and finally 
thrown aside as impracticable ; until very re- 
cently, when it was resolved, after a scientific 
survey of the river and the ground, and duly 
calculating the expense, to bring hither the 
waters of the Croton. For this purpose an 
act has been obtained of the legislature ; and 
if money can be raised, the water will pro- 
bably be forthcoming, sometime within the 
life-lease of the present generation. 

That part of the Croton river from whence 
the water is to be taken, is about forty-four 
miles, in a northerly direction, from the City 
Hall. The water is to be conveyed by a 
covered aqueduct of strong mason work, to 

Thirteenth street and the Bowery. This water is forced 
up by steam, and distributed to the various parts of the 
city ; where hydrants are erected at eveiy corner. This 
scheme of a supply against fires is of very recent date ; 
and is found of immense use : for which we give our wor- 
thy corporation aU due praise. 



184 WATER AND OTHER LIQUID-Sr 

a rise of land on the island, called Murray 
Hill ; from whence, by the force of its own 
gravity, it will distribute itself through all the 
streets and avenues of the city — as by the 
force of the same gravity, it is to be brought 
from the high ground of its fountain head to 
the great reservoir on Murray Hill. The 
length of pipe, required for the distribution, 
is estimated at 167 miles. 

The amount of water, which the Croton 
will furnish, is set down at 30,000,000 gallons 
daily, in the driest times ; and 50,000,000 
daily, in times of ordinary plenty. In the 
former case, the supply for each inhabitant, 
old and young, of our present population, 
would be 100 gallons a day ; in the latter, 
166§ gallons for the same time : a supply al- 
together sufficient, it is believed, to satisfy 
the desires of the most laborious water-drinker 
the city can afford ; besides leaving a surplus 
for all the convenient purposes of making tea, 
cofiee, cleansing the outer man, and ex* 
tinguishing fires. 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 185 

The Croton water is found, by chemical 
analysis, to be exceedingly pure, and such as 
will prove highly agreeable to the tastes of 
all hydro-epicures — or such persons as value 
themselves on their connoisseurship in the ar- 
ticle of " Adam's ale." Being pure, it can- 
not fail, also, of being soft — because hard 
water owes all its hardness to the foreign mat- 
ters it contains ; especially those which have a 
hankering after alkali, and rob the soap of 
that ingredient — leaving on your hands those 
unctuous collections which are far more diffi- 
cult of removal than the original soil itself. 
Thus free from impurities, the Croton water 
will be a great inducement to personal clean- 
liness. Having it, as they will, running pure 
into their very bedrooms, the citizens will find 
it an agreeable pastime, instead of a disgusting 
labor, to wash themselves of a morning. The 
Philadelphians, who visit New York, shall 
not then have occasion to make the invidious 
comparison, they now do, between their de- 
16* 



186 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS- 

lightful Schuylkill water and the vile slops 
wherewith our bedrooms are furnished.* 

All this, and more, we expect from the 
Croton water, when it gets to New York. 
But that when, we fear is a considerable way 
off. The expense will be enormous — no less, 
by estimate, than $5,500,000. The labor 
will be immense. And large bodies, like our 
corporation, proverbialy, move slow. Some 
years therefore, must elapse, before we shall 
be able to quench our thirst and lave our 
limbs in the pure waters of the Croton. 

This delay is to be regretted on many ac- 
counts ; and very particularly, as it will afford 
an excuse to many persons for continuing the 
excessive use of strong drink. The water is 

* The best water for washing, in New York, is that 
which comes from the clouds. And, indeed, nothing 
could be better, if you could catch it pure, as it falls. But 
in passing over the roofs of the houses, from whence it is 
conveyed to the cisterns, it contracts so much foulness 
from the coal-ashes and soot on the roofs, that its appear- 
ance is nearly as dark as ink, and its smell any thing but 
agreeable, as it comes in contact with your nose, in the 
operation of washing your face. 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 18*7 

now SO bad, they plead, that it is absolutely 
necessary to qualify it with a drop of ardent 
spirits, to render it potable. But a single 
drop will not suffice ; and many drops, even 
to a full stream, are added to the cup. 

To give the greater foundation for the ex- 
cuse, and at the same time to render it more 
available, the principal topers get their quali- 
fying drops at those cheap resorts where 
rum, brandy, gin, and whiskey may be had 

for three cents per glass ; and where the wa- 
ter is usually derived from the town-pumps. 

What is the entire number of dram-shops 

in New York, we know not.* But they may 

be found at almost every corner throughout 

* It will probably not be too high to estimate the whole 
number in the city at 2000. That will give on an aver- 
age one shop to every 150 inhabitants. Deducting four 
fifths of these, for women and children, and there is just one 
shop to every 30 men. But with all this plentiful supply 
of drunkeries, there is nothing like the glorious times for 
the toper, which Smollett describes as existing in London in 
the days of George II. " At many houses," says that his- 
torian, '' boards were set up to give pubUe notice, that a 
person might get drunk for a penny, dead drunk for two 
pence, and be furnished with straw for nothing." 



188 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

the city, and at almost every door of the build- 
ings bordering on the North and East rivers* 
Besides those places devoted to the mere sale 
and swilling of liquors ; almost every grocery 
is likewise a dram-shop. Not only tea, cof- 
fee, sugar, molasses, butter and cheese are 
sold at these establishments ; but likewise ar- 
dent spirits of all sorts, by the gallon and the 
glass. And the trade in these latter articles is 
thought to be the most lucrative of the two. 
But if the bad water is an excuse for drink- 
ing ardent spirits, the bad quality of the spirits 
should be a still stronger excuse for letting 
them alone.* The world, perhaps, does not 

* Whether it is owing to the bad water, or the bad Hquors, 
in New- York, that this city is so much more unhealthy than 
London, we are not able to say. But, if we may rely on the 
statement of Mr. Grant, the mortality in that metropolis is 
not so great, in proportion to the number of the inhabitants, 
by more than one third, as in the city of New-York. After 
pronouncing London to be " by far the healthiest metropo- 
lis in the world," he says, "the annual number of deaths in 
London is, in round numbers, 30,000." This, allowing 
its population to be what he states, namely, 2,000,000, 
gives only 1 death to about 6Q inhabitants. The number 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 189 

afford, nor has the brain of man conceived, 
more villanous mixtures than are constantly 
sold at the groceries and dram-shops of this 
city. Nay, for the matter of that, the ho- 
tels themselves are not much better. They 
purchase the liquors of the grocers — it may 
be the more respectable ones. But it is a part 
of the modern grocer's business to adulterate 
his liquors : and what he sellsunder the name 
of Cogniac, Jamaica, or Port, has as small a 
mixture of either of those liquors as can well 
be imagined. 

The drinker pours into his stomach a vile 
compound, which, with its deleterious proper- 
ties, tends to hasten the legitimate effect of 
alcohol, when taken to excess — namely, 
death ! He has not, in his last agonies, even 
the poor consolation of having got gloriously 
drunk, and lived and died glorious, on " good 
liquor." Such vile compounds, as are usually 

of deaths in New York, during the year 1836, was 8009. 
Th© year before it was 7092. The average of these tw© 
years gives about 7550 : or 1 death to about 40 inhabitants. 



190 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

to be found, both at table and bar, no man of 
sound sense or good taste will ever drink. 

The temperance society has effected some- 
thing, in this city, in the way of banishing 
ardent spirits. But this is mostly in private 
families ; where wine, as well as spirits, has 
been turned out of doors. In these families, 
neither was lised to excess ; and therefore its 
present banishment has effected no change of 
very great importance. It possibly may have 
prevented some temperate drinkers from be- 
coming intemperate ones ; and if so, then has 
the effect been beneficial. But it can scarce- 
ly be considered a rational deed, for one man 
to abstain entirely from any comfort or enjoy- 
ment, merely because another man abuses it. 
Else should A abstain from the use of speech, 
because B is a blackguard, L a liar, and P a 
profane fellow. 

Some individuals, as well as families, 
have been cured of the sin of moderate drink- 
ing. They have " signed off," and therefore 
are bound, under their hand, not to drink ; or 
they are religiously scrupulous on the subject, 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 191 

and therefore abstain from drink, as a matter 
of conscience ; or they have come to the re- 
solution to let it alone, because they know it 
to be injurious to their pocket, and believe it 
may prove detrimental to their health, and 
perhaps to life itself. But some of this class 
have carried their reformation so far as to 
eschew, in like manner, tea, coffee, chocolate, 
fine wheat bread, butter, cheese, roast beef, 
mutton chop, and all kinds of animal food. 
Some of these last remarkable abstinents— 
who supposed they had discovered the elixir 
vitae—the secret of perpetual youth and 
health— and of living when all their friends 
were dead— have since, poor fellows ! become 

food /or worms : and their system of living 

commonly called Grahamism, from the Rev. 
Sylvester Graham, who first taught it here, 
five or six years ago— is now, we believe, very 
much fallen into disrepute. 

The cure of immoderate drinkers, here, 
as elsewhere, has seldom been achieved ; and 
in the reformation of moderate drinkers far 
less has been effected than in country towns. 



192 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

The fear of public opinion, which influenc- 
es so many in the country, and especially in 
a village, has very little effect here. The 
population here is too numerous for every 
man to oversee his neighbor ; to observe 
what he is about ; and to report proceedings 
to the leading and influential members 
of the community. Here most persons — 
office-seekers excepted, — do as they please ; 
and eat and drink what they please, or what 
they can get ; holding themselves amenable 
to the law only, and caring very little about 
their neighbor's opinion. 

In speaking of other liquids besides water — 
whereof the number used as beverage is 
pretty large — we must not forget tea, 
coffee, wine, and beer. There are feWf or 
no families in New York, where the former 
are not drunk, such as they are ; the coffee 
in the morning and the tea at night. It is 
not so easy spoiling the latter by any process 
of making; and therefore it is, in general, quite 
possible to drink it. We cannot say as much 
for the liquid called coffee. It is, in most 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 193 

cases, triply ruined : first, in the burning, 
secondly, in the boiling ; and finally in the 
mixture therewith, of that very doubtfial liquid 
denominated milk. 

Wine in New York is better ; and, if we 
except that compound called Port, is the best 
liquor in the city. The Madeira is very 
fine ; as even those most grumbling and fas- 
tidious of guests — the British journalists — * 
acknowledge. The author of '' Men and 
Manners" ascribes this to the wine being 
placed " in the attics, where it is exposed 
to the whole fervor of the summer's heat and 
severity of the winter's cold," instead of being 
kept, as in England,"in a subterraneous vault.'^ 

The Claret in New York is also good. So 
are the Sherry and the Champagne. Of the 
latter and of Madeira large quanities are 
drunk. The sound-headed old wine-drinkers 
prefer the Madeira ; the dashing young 
blades choose Champagne. Whether it is, 
that their heads will bear it better ; or that 
they can expend upon it more money at a 
17 



194 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

sitting ; or that they can have it to say, they 
drank so many bottles ; or, lastly, that, it is 
more agreeable to their natures, because it 
contains more wind : which of these reasons, 
or whether they all, operate in producing the 
effect ; certain it is, that the younger gentry 
of this city — do, occasionally, pour down 
amazing quantities of Champagne. How 
often they are cheated by a substitution of bot- 
tled cider, it matters not to say. The remark 
of Othello, 

" He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, 
Let him not know it, and he's not robbed at all," 

is as true in regard to this same substitu- 
tion as to that of any cheatery we know 
of. As long as the wine-bibber fancies 
himself to be drinking Champagne, it is all the 
same to him — except the headache which 
follows — that being about fift}^ per cent 
less. Exchange is truly no robbery here, 
except in the matter of the headache ; which 
were it not for the name of the thing, might 
as well be omitted altogether, in the plea- 
sures of drinking Champagne. 



WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 195 

As last, but not the least agreeable among 
our vinous liquors, may be mentioned the 
fine cider that comes from the orchards of 
New Jersey. That state has been long 
famous for her manufacture of good cider, and 
the dinner-tables of the most sensible citizens 
of New York, give very sparkling, and agree- 
able evidence that the fame of our neighbor 
across the Bay is founded injustice and good 
taste. 

The last beverage we shall touch upon is 
beer ; a liquid we very seldom touch at all, and 
should not do so now, except for the purpose 
of the present work. This liquid — under the 
names of porter and ale — is much drunk in 
this city ; especially in the cold season. Small 
beer is not unfrequently substituted in the 
summer. 

The taste for the strong article, is on the 
increase. The number of Bonifaces who 
make it their meat, drink, and lodging, is al- 
ready very great. Some have abandoned ar- 
dent spirits, and taken to beer. And some, 
having at first taken to beer have taken to lit- 



196 WATER AND OTHER LIQUIDS. 

tie else, from that day to this. They grow 
fat upon it ; and it will soon be as common to 
see burly Americans, as burly Englishmen. 
Others drink beer moderately, taking only an 
occasional glass, to strengthen the outer, and 
revive the inner man. On the whole, the love 
of beer, so far as we are able to discover, is, 
of the two, a lesser evil than the love of ardent 
^spirits. If it puts the toper asleep — as it is 
very apt to do — so much the better : he will 
jjot drink any more until he wakes again. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

No one can be twenty-four hours in New York without 
hearing the alarm of fire. — Hamilton. 

The crackling flames appear on high ; 
And driving sparkles dance along the sky. 

Dryden's Virgil. 

Fire ! fire ! fire ! Turn out ! turn out ! 

EvERY-DAY Cry. 

Among the novelties of New York, there is 
nothing perhaps which strikes a stranger with 
more surprise than the frequency of fires. 
There is scarcely a day from January to July, 
and from July to January, when there is not 
an alarm— a cry of fire—and a ringing of 
bells. But a single alarm, for each day in the 
year, would be too low an average. To say 
the bells are rung and the firemen called out, 
five hundred times in the three hundred 
17* 



198 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

and sixty-five days, would not exceed the 
truth. 

Some of these numerous alarms, in-' 
deed, are false ; and others are raised 
for very trivial causes. The boys vi^ill some- 
times set up a cry of fire out of mere mischief, 
or for the pleasure of running after, or help- 
ing to drag, the engines. Other alarms are 
raised from the burning of a foul chimney, 
where no injury is done or likely to be done. 
Others again arise from the actual catching 
fire of some building ; which, however, taken 
in the commencement, is extinguished with a 
bucket of water. 

But after making all due allowances, the 
number of alarms, founded on good and suf- 
ficient cause, is astonishingly great. Many 
of the fires, though small, and capable of be- 
ing extinguished with very little water, never- 
theless require the aid of an engine, because 
they are so situated that they cannot be 
reached with bucket in hand. For these, a 
single engine will suffice. Others, having 
made greater progress, require two, or more 



FIRES AND FIREMEN. 199 

engines. While others — owing to the rapid 
spread of the flames, the height of the build- 
ings, the narrowness of the streets, or other 
causes favoring the conflagration — demand 
the aid of all the firemen, with all their means 
of arresting the mischief. 

Such was the great fire in Ann Street, on 
the 4th of August, 1835; and such, above 
all, was that most disastrous one, on the 
16th of December, of the same year. In the 
first of these, the difiiculty of extinguishing 
the flames, arose principally from the exceed- 
ing height of many of the buildings ; which, 
being elevated to six stories, defied the force 
of the most powerful engines to reach them 
effectually ; at least to convey water to the 
upper stories in such quantity as should not 
rather excite the flames, than extinguish them. 

The progress of the Great Fire, of the 
16th of December, was owing to several caus- 
es, which had never before occurred in com- 
bination, and are not likely again to meet for a 
long time to come. The mischief first com- 
menced in a high building, in a narrow street. 



200 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

But the firemen were on the ground, with 
their usual alacrity, and before the flames 
had made any very extensive progress. But 
their engines were out of order; and this 
was the first great cause of the succeeding 
disaster. On the morning previous, they had 
been employed at a large fire ; and the weath- 
er being excessively cold, there was much ice 
collected in the hose, and the pipes : so that 
very little water could be received or deliver- 
ed by them ; and that little not with sufficient 
force, to have much eff"ect on a large fire and 
a high building. 

While the flames were fast getting ahead, 
owing to the condition of the engines, these 
were continually getting worse and worse, 
in consequence of the increasing seventy of 
the weather ; until at length they became, in 
a great measure, useless ; and nearly all ef- 
fort to arrest the flames by their means, was 
abandoned. The firemen, unable to be of 
service in their proper capacity, were employ*- 
ed in saving goods and merchandize from the 
stores which were next to be burnt. 



FIRES AND EIREMEN. 201 

But even these efforts in many instances, 
availed not. The goods, though supposed at 
first to be removed out of the reach of harm, 
not being carried, as it turned out, to a suffi- 
cient distance, were finally destroyed by the 
flames ; and all the labor of their removal — in 
some instances twice over — was utterly thrown 
away. 

The first great cause of the progress of the 
fire, as we have hinted, was the unfortunate 
condition of the engines. But when it had 
once got the power into its own hands, it seem- 
ed to deride the vain efforts of man ; to 
*' laugh at his calamity, and mock when his 
fear came." Never was there a more striking 
illustration of the truth of the latter clause 
of that saying, which, having pronounced fire 
to be " a good servant," also declares it to be 
" a hard master." On that occasion it master- 
ed all opposition. Contrary to the course 
of ordinary fires, it seemed to pay no regard 
to the winds, but ran as well agiiinst them, as 
along with them. It spread east, west, north, 
and south at the same time.. While one dj- 



202 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

vision of its flames, was marching towards the 
East River, another was proceeding towards 
Broad-street, another to Wall, and so on. 

People on all sides were in the utmost con- 
sternation. Terror and dismay sat on every 
face. Despair was in all men's words and 
actions. A species of insanity, in many in- 
stances, prevailed. Costly and valuable arti- 
cles were destroyed, to save them from the 
flames ! One man — a military character, and 
now a hero in Texas — proposed to blow up 
the City Hall, standing alone in the Park, to 
stop the progress of the flames below Wall- 
street, at half a mile's distance ! 

Gunpowder was finally employed, and pro- 
bably with some advantage. Several stores 
were blown up, in the neighborhood of the 
fire, so as to occasion a vacancy in the line of 
buildings where the flames were progressing. 
The efiect of the powder on these stores was 
very surprising, to those who had never seen 
a similar explosion. Instead of the fragments 
being blown upwards, and all around to a 
great distance, as people expected ; the en- 



FIRES AND FIREMEN 203 

tire buildings, on the powder being fired, set- 
tled quietly down into their own cellars ; and 
the spectators, who had run from the danger, 
found they had been frightened without any 
cause. 

The blowing up of these stores, as we 
have said, had probably some effect in ar- 
resting the progress of the fire ; particularly 
towards Broad street. A bound was put to 
it in Wall street, by great exertions in keep- 
ing constantly wet such of the exposed parts 
of the buildings, on the upper side of that 
street, as were combustible. While to the 
east, it was only arrested by the river itself. 

Some persons, however, were puzzled to 
understand why the fire, on the whole, ceased 
to rage so soon as it did ; they were rather 
disposed to ascribe it to the mere weariness 
and exhaustion of that element. If so, it had 
abundant reason to be satisfied with its exer- 
tions ; having destroyed, in its whole progress, 
654 stores, shops, houses, and public build- 
ings — including that expensive edifice, the 
Merchants' Exchange, in which was the Post 



104 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

Office, and the fine statue of Hamilton by 
Chantry. 

During the progress of this fire, the blacks 
proved that they could be grateful for exer- 
tions made in favor of their oppressed race, 
A large number of them ran to the store of 
Arthur Tappan — a leading abolitionist — and 
exerted themselves faithfully, until his valuable 
stock of goods was completely rescued from 
the flames, and conveyed to a place of safety* 

The amount of property, real, and personal, 
destroyed at this fire, was estimated — after a 
careful examination by a committee appointed 
for that purpose — at the round sum of 
$17,000,000. The loss at the fire in Ann 
street was computed at nearly $1,000,000. 
Other fires, during that year, of which the 
number was large and the result disastrous, 
are supposed to have raised the whole amount, 
for the twelve months, to very near twenty 
millions of dollars. 

We have hinted at the surprise of strangers 
at the frequent cries of fire in this city. They 
are very often alarmed too, as well as sur- 



FIRES AND FIREMEN 205 

prised; and fancy from the hideous outcry of 
the boys and the rueful jangling of the bells, 
that the fire is close to, if not within their 
very lodgings ; and that New York is, every 
day, on the veyy verge of a general confla- 
gration. 

To this alarm, the bells very much, per- 
haps needlessly, contribute. As soon as an 
alarm of fire is given, they fall to ringing in 
all quarters, with great zeal and force; and 
some of them continue their clamor for a con- 
siderable time after the danger is past ; or 
after the alarm is ascertained to be a false 
one. The first in the field, the most vigorous 
in action, and the last to quit, is the bell of 
the Middle Dutch Church. Who the ringer 
of that bell is, we know not ; but this we will 
aver, that he labors with a zeal and perseve- 
rance that are quite astounding. We fancy 
he, now and then, gets up in his sleep to ex- 
ercise his vocation. At any rate, whether 
asleep or awake, he seems to have a remarka- 
ble fondness for pulling at the end of a rope. 
18 



206 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

The number of fire companies in New York, 
of all kinds, is 64. Of these, 49 are engine 
companies ; 9, hook-and-ladder ; and the 
remaining 6, hose. Each of these consists of 
26 men, which is the requisite number to 
form a full company. In addition to these, 
they are permitted to accept of the services of 
volunteers ; who, however, are not entitled to 
any of the privileges belonging to the regular 
firemen. All they can claim, is the pleasure 
of turning out at every cry of fire ; and aiding 
to draw and work the engines. 

The regular firemen, as a remuneration for 
all their toils, dangers, loss of sleep, exposure 
to heat, cold, and wet, and various expenses 
in the service of the public, for the space of 
seven years, are exempted from military, and 
from jury, duty ; not only during those seven 
years, but for the rest of their lives. This 
exemption, of course, is only available as long 
as they continue inhabitants of the State of 
New York ; other states not being bound to 
the fulfilment of obligations contracted by 
their sister state. 



FIRES AND FIREMEN. 207 

This is but a small compensation for all 
their toil and exposure ; to say nothing of the 
great loss of time, which can scarcely be con- 
sidered of less value than $100 per annum 
to each fireman ; amounting to $700 during 
the seven years. With so inconsiderable an 
offset for all their exertions, there must surely 
be much of public spirit in the young men 
composing the fire companies, to induce them 
to enter upon, and persevere in this arduous 
public duty. 

That there is among them much of the 
esprit du corps, is very certain : some pretty 
strong proofs of it having been given last 
year, when James Gulick, their popular Chief 
Engineer, was removed from office by the 
Common Council, and Mr. Riker, appointed 
in his stead. They were engaged at a large 
fire, when news of this change was brought 
them : and touched with anger, or disgust, 
or both, they suddenly abandoned their en- 
gines, and following their leader, gave up a 
valuable block of buildings to the flames ; nor 
could they be induced to return, until Mr. 



208 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

Gulick, at the instance of the mayor, intreat- 
ed them to resume their duties, and himself 
led them back to extinguish the flames. 

Having done this, they resigned by whole 
companies ; and New York was, for several 
weeks, in a very exposed situation, for want 
of an efficient fire department. 

But the ex-firemen did not suffer the heat 
of their resentment to cool, with the bare act 
of resignation. On the contrary, they carried 
the war into the enemy's camp — i. e. the 
camp of the party to which the common 
council belonged. At the fall election, they 
organized a strong band ; and, since they 
could not have Gulick for Chief Engineer of 
the fire department, they determined he 
should be Register of the city and county of 
New York. They were indefatigable in pro- 
curing him votes ; and the result was, that he 
was raised to the office of Register, by a very 
large majority ; and that in opposition to a 
party which had almost invariably kept the 
rule of the city, for many years. In the 



FIRES AND FIREMEN. 209 

room of an office worth $1,200, of which the 
corporation deprived him, he was elevated to 
one worth $20,000. 

The fire companies are composed of young 
men mostly between the ages of 20 and 30. 
They are clerks and mechanics ; but a ma- 
jority of the latter. Their alacrity in turning 
out at every alarm of fire, is very remarkable ; 
and the ambition of the different companies to 
be first on the ground and to exert themselves 
most strenuously when there, induces to the 
most efficient operations. 

Exerting themselves so much for the pub- 
lic good with so little compensation, they fancy 
they have some claims to select their chief en- 
gineer ; and though by the law, the appoint- 
ment lies with the common council, the fire- 
men think their views and feelings might at 
least be consulted by the members of that 
honorable body. Perhaps it were a matter, no 
less of policy than of courtesy, to do so : more 
especially, as such vast interests and such im- 
portant consequences depend upon the cheer- 
18* 



210 FIRES AND FIREMEN. 

ful activity and cordial exertions of the fire- 
men, in discharge of their almost thankless 
duty. 






CHAPTER XIX. 



PUBLIC SQUARES. 



Together let us beat this ample field, 

Try what the open what the covert yield. — Pope. 

The number of public squares, in New York, 
we believe does not much exceed ten. And, 
as the number is remarkably small, so, in the 
case of several of them, is the size remarka- 
bly contracted. The first settlers, when land 
was abundant and cheap, seem never to have 
dreamed of setting aside any for the sole use, 
behoof, and comfort of the citizens in general. 
And since land began to grow scarce and 
dear, it has been accounted too valuable to be 
thrown open, in any great quantity, to the 
public use. 

To do our corporation justice, however, 
they have provided some noble squares — at 
least what we must call noble, in this cis-At- 



212 PUBLIC SQUARES. 

lantic country, where, certain European wri- 
ters say, every thing degenerates, and appears 
comparatively on a small scale. Whether it 
is on this principle of degeneracy, that our 
Park is so contracted an affair in comparison 
with St. James's, in London : and that our 
other public squares are so inferior to those of 
that great metropolis; we shall not pretend to 
decide. But happy are we to say — nay, thrice 
happy — that, in this land-speculating age, we 
have any public squares, whatever, to set our 
feet upon. Why, the temptation to sell them 
is so great, that we marvel exceedingly that 
the fathers of the city have not, ere this, cut 
the Park and Battery into building lots and 
set them to sale at the auction room of 
Bleecker and Sons. 

The whole space of ground occupied by 
the public squar.^sof ^ ew York, may be about 
60 acres. The Park and Battery contain, 
each, somewhat more than 10 acres. Wash- 
ington Square, Tompkins Square, and 
Stuyvesant Square, have, each, probably 
about the same amount. These are the 



PUBLIC SQUARES. 213 

largest. Other petty patches of ground, de- 
nominated squares, contain, some, one acre, 
some a half, and some a fourth of an acre. 

These squares are of all manner of shapes, 
except that of a figure having four equal sides 
and four right angles. In other words, though 
called squares by courtesy, they are, in fact, 
no squares at all. Some of them are oblong 
rectangles, as the Washington Square, the 
Tompkins Square, and so forth. Others are 
triangles, as the Park, and some minor pieces. 
While the Bowling Green is an elipsis ; and 
the Battery, very much in the shape of a 
quarter section of the rim of a modern hat. 

The Bowling Green was formerly an ob- 
long square ; and previous to the revolution 
was called " the parade." There stood the 
statue of his most gracious majesty, George 
II., which the people, at the commencement 
of the revolution, dragged through the streets ; 
and finally converted its leaden materials into 
bullets, to be shot at the soldiers of his 
.grandson and successor, George III. 

A large part of the ground, where the Bat- 



214 PUBLIC SQUARES. 

tery now is, originally belonged to the do- 
mains of old Neptune ; and, not many years 
since, boats used to ply and the finny 
tribes swim, where now trees grow and hu- 
man feet tread. 

This is the most delightful public ground in 
the city — perhaps in any city of the United 
States. It is agrc eably laid out and diversifi- 
ed, with plots of grass, and gravel walks ; 
beautified and rendered shady and pleasant, by 
the weeping willow, the elm, the sycamore, 
and other trees. Seats are also provided for 
the weary, or for those who wish to lounge 
and look abroad leisurely over the spacious 
bay, the neighboring islands, and the shores 
of New Jersey. It is perfectly delightful, 

"The world forgetting, by the world forgot," 

To take a station on the Battery, of a 
summer afternoon, and watch the vessels of 
all kinds, as they glide by, from the light skiff 
to the enormous steamboat, and from the fish- 
ing smack with its single sail, to the merchant 
ship with its thousand yards of canvass. It is 
charming to witne^ss so busy a scene of life, 



PUBLIC SQUARES. 215 

and commerce, and pleasure, on the quiet 
bosom of the waves. It is pleasant to hear, 
from the water, the sailor's merry "Yo ! 
heave O !" as he hoists the sail or heaves the 
anchor. Even the playing of a porpus, or 
the floating of a bit of wood, or a straw, on 
the wave, affords agreeable pastime, on a plea- 
sant summer's day ; when the mind is at 
ease ; when the dinner has been good ; and 
when the notes are all paid, and " some- 
thing over." 

It is a pleasant sight, of a Sunday, after the 
last church, and just at the approach of sun- 
set, to behold the crowds of people on the 
Battery ; crowds of both sexes and every age, 
but more particularly the young and light- 
hearted ; all hi their Sunday's best ; gay in 
heart, clean in person, and decent in attire. 
There walks the bonnie lad and his more bon- 
nie lassie. There walks the mother with her 
children. And there walk the industrious 
classes, who, escaped from the busy toils of 
the week, seize upon this only hour of recre- 
ation. 



216 PUBLIC SQUARES. 

This is emphatically the people^s ground 
Debarred, as the great body of them are, 
from many of the pleasures and comforts of 
life enjoyed by the wealthy ; and especially 
confined to narrow limits in their houses ; 
they are glad to escape, once a week, from 
their crowded quarters and the unwholesome 
air of their apartments, to stretch their cramp- 
ed limbs, and to breathe freely the delightful 
air of the Battery, where they are placed on 
a footing of equality with the richest of their 
neighbors. 

But pleasant as it is, to the just and well- 
disposed, thus to behold the people enjoying 
themselves and taking their share of a com- 
mon benefit, there are persons who seem to 
grudge them this share, even though it be 
claimed but once a week. They would, if it 
were in their power, banish them from the 
public walks. They are particularly offended 
that the common people should presume to 
appear on that delightful promenade, the Bat- 
tery. " It is so very vulgar," say these aris- 
tocrats, " to be seen walking in the same 



PUBLIC SQUARES. 217 

grounds with mechanics, house-servants, and 
laboring people !" And so, because the mass 
of our citizens have the good sense and good 
taste to be as happy as their circumstances will 
admit ; a few persons, actuated by a silly 
pride, exclude themselves from an enjoyment 
from which they have not the power to ex- 
clude others. 

That charming promenade, called St. John's 
Park, appears to be as exclusive as the most 
fastidious could desire. Belonging, we be- 
lieve, to certain persons connected with St. 
John's Church, its gates are entirely closed 
to the public ; and only open to the proprie- 
tors, their families, and their particular friends. 
The Bowling Green, with its shady trees — 
and its beautiful verdure, is still more exclu- 
sive than St. Johns' Park ; for it not only 
excludes the rabble, but every body else. 

As for the newer squares, they appear as 
yet no better than mere vacant lots : being 
vacant, indeed, of every thing that is attrac- 
tive ; and destitute alike of every living vege- 
table, whether tree, shrub, grass, or flower. 
19 



218 PUBLIC SQUARES. 

But these promenades are new ; and doubt- 
less, in twenty years from this time, with due 
care and attention, will be very agreeable 
places of resort. 

The chief militar}' parade ground is Wash- 
ington Square, in front of that fine Gothic 
structure, the University of New York. There 
the militia of this great city display their skill 
in arms. There the volunteer companies ex- 
hibit their fine uniforms, their full equipments, 
and their knowledge in the art o^ pacific war. 
There also the "slabs," in their dresses of all 
sorts, with their arms and accoutrements of 
all kinds, are dragged on muster days, to 
share the glory of the volunteers. 

But military tactics are not confined to 
Washington Square. The Park is at all 
times • a parade ground, whether for small 
squads or large ones ; whether for volunteers 
or " slabs." The Battery is more exclusive : 
being merely used, as a parade, on some grand 
anniversary occasion, or other great public 
display. Lafayette was received there, in 
1824, with military honor ; so was General 



PUBLIC SQUARES. « 219 

Jackson, in 1833. when the bridge from Cas- 
tle Garden broke under the weight of glory 
that pressed upon it, both in the person of the 
venerable chief, and in that of his now suc- 
cessor to the Presidential chair. Indeed the 
Battery is the place where all great men from 
abroad are received, whether with military, 
or any other species of public display. 

It is there also that the 4th of July is princi- 
pally glorified. There floats the American ban- 
ner, with its thirteen stripes and twenty-six stars, 
on astaff an hundred feet high. There the great 
guns are fired, at sunrise, at noon, and at the de-\ 
cline of day. And there troops of men and 
women, of girls and boys, stand, the whole 
day through, in crowds, to behold the troops 
of the military and listen to the sharp voice of 
the musketry, and the deep tone of the can- 
non. 

The Battery, as we have said before, is 
emphatically the people's ground. And 
though no man is allowed, in a civil and 
peaceable manner, to stretch himself on the 
grass " underneath the sheltering shade of the 



220 PUBLIC SQUARES. 

umbrageous trees ;" but is immediately dis- 
turbed in his meditations by some Battery po- 
liceman who bids him instantly get up, lest he 
should rumple the grass ; nevertheless the 
soldiery, who are of the people and from the 
people, are at least once every ^ear allowed 
the privilege of riding over, trampling down, 
and utterly treading up, all the small herbage 
which, at great expense and labor, have been 
induced to take root there during the twelve 
previous months. 



CHAPTER XX. 



PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 



Lo ! all in silence, all in order stand, 

And mighty folios first, a lordly band ; 

Then quartos their well-ordered ranks maintain ; 

And light octavos fill a spacious plain: 

See yonder ranged in more frequented rows, 

A humbler band of duodecimos ; 

While undistinguished trifles swell the scene. 

The last new play and frittered magazine. — Crabbe. 

The citizens of New York have evidently 
not forgotten that " knowledge is power," as 
any man may convince himself, who will 
take the trouble to glance at the various li- 
braries in this city. We do not speak of pri- 
vate collections of books, nor of those owned 
by particular individuals and loaned out for 
the public use, denominated circulating libra- 
ries. We shall only take notice of some of 
the principal collections belonging to public 
associations, 

19* 



222 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 

The first of these in point of age, as well 
as in number of volumes, is the New York 
Society Library. It was founded while we 
were yet in the colonial state, and 21 years 
before the commencement of the revolution, 
namely, in 1754. It began with about 700 vol- 
umes. The price of a share was $12,50, sub- 
ject to an annual tax of $1,50. In 1792, 
during the administration of Governor Tryon, 
the society was incorporated. It was just 
beginning to flourish — to increase in numbers 
and to add to its stock of books — when the 
war broke out ; and while the British had 
possession of New York, the principal part of 
the books were scattered or destroyed. The 
project, however, was revived soon after the 
peace ; and the library is now among the 
most valuable in the character, as well as 
number of its books, to be found in the United 
States. It contains more than 25,000 vol- 
umes. The price of a share is now $25, and 
the annual tax ,^4. 

The next, in number of volumes, is the 
clerk's library, a collection belonging to the 



PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 223 

merchants' clerks, united together under the 
name of the Mercantile Library Association. 
This library was founded in the year 1821, 
by the union of a few clerks who thought 
they could devote their leisure hours more 
profitably, if not more agreeably, to books 
than to the theatres, ball rooms, and other 
fashionable amusements. They began by 
uniting their own little collections with such 
books as they could get together by way of 
donation. Thus a few hundred volumes 
were collected, which have since been increas- 
ing in number, chiefly by means of the sub- 
scriptions of members and by an annual tax, 
until they now amount to more than 13,500 : 
enabling the Mercantile Library to rank as 
the tenth, in point of numbers in the United 
States. 

The increase in 1836, was 1845 volumes ; 
and the number of members added during the 
same year was 867. The whole number of 
members is now about 3,500. The initiation 
fee is $1 ; and the annual tax $2, payable by 
quarterly instalments of 50 cents each. To 



224 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 

the library is added a reading room, furnished 
with all the most valuable periodical literature 
of the day. 

Merchants are allowed all the privileges of 
the library and the reading room, by paying 
an annual subscription of $5. And so far 
they are considered members but they are not 
allowed the privilege of voting. 

The sole management of the concern be- 
longs to the clerks ; who, not far from the 
first of January, elect their officers for each 
year, and hear the report of those entrusted 
with the rule for the year preceding. 

About the time of the election, there is 
usually a good deal of stir among the clerks, 
and no little show of party spirit. The con- 
tending factions publish their respective nomi- 
nations in the newspapers, and electioneer 
with a warmth, a spirit and vigor, which 
might excite the envy of much older poli- 
ticians. 

The principal point of dispute between them 
is, generally, in relation to the character of 
the books which shall be purchased : one party 



PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 225 

accusing the other of a design to exclude all 
the attractions of romance ; and the other 
party retorting the accusation. 

But these charges, we are told, are got up 
on each side chiefly for electioneering purpo- 
ses ; and that there is in reality little differ- 
ence of opinion between the parties as. to the 
character of the books which shall be added 
to the library. A large majority, on both 
sides, we are informed are in favor of a "con- 
siderable sprinkling" of works of fiction : and 
though the most valuable scientific and literary 
works constitute the solid dishes and the prin- 
cipal repast of the readers, nevertheless very 
few of them would be satisfied without a des- 
sert composed of lighter materials. 

But whatever the motive, real or apparent, 
which annually excites so much warmth and 
gives such vigor to the electioneering spirit, 
no sooner are the officers chosen for the year,' 
than all party animosity is buried in the more 
important concern of advancing the interests 
of the association and increasing the library, 
both in the value of its works and the number 



226 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 

of its volumes. Having exercised the invalua- 
ble right of suffrage ; and having either beaten 
their opponents, or acknowledged themselves 
beaten ; the members of the different parties, 
leaving the management of affairs to "the 
powers that be," go home and quietly read 
their books, and trouble their heads no more 
with the excitements of party matters, until 
the next annual election. 

Connected with the association of clerks is 
the Clinton Hall Association— a corporate 
body, composed of some of the first mer- 
chants in the city, united for the laudable pur- 
pose of aiding the clerks in their efforts for 
intellectual improvement. Clinton Hall, in 
which are the library, reading, and lecture^ 
rooms, is the property of this association ; and, 
besides the use of these rooms being granted 
rent free, the income of the stores and such 
other parts of the building as are let out on 
rent, all goes to the Mercantile Library, to in- 
crease its stock of books. This source — as 
soon as some arrears of expense for building 
are paid — will, we are assured, amount to lit- 



PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 227 

tie less than $5000 ; which, with the income 
from subscription and assessments of members, 
will give to the Mercantile Library Associa- 
tion an income of more than $10,000 a year; 
all of which, laid out in books, will cause 
their collection to increase more rapidly than 
perhaps any other library in the United 
States. 

Next to the Mercantile Library in number 
of volumes, and not inferior to it in point of 
usefulness, is the Apprentices Library. It 
was founded in the year 1820, and has now 
upwards of 12,000 volumes. This library is 
the property of the General Society of Me- 
chanics and Tradesmen, a benevolent associ- 
ation formed in 1784, thirty-six years before 
the establishment of the library. The initia- 
tion fee, for members of this society, is $10 ; 
and $12 more, paid in four annual instalments 
of $3 each — or $20, paid in the beginning — 
constitutes a man a life member. 

The books of this library are loaned to me- 
chanics' apprentices — for whose use alone it 
is intended — free of all expense ; their mas- 



228 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 

ters engaging to become responsible for the 
safe return of the books. Nothing could be 
more noble and generous than this provision 
of the mechanics and tradesmens' society. Of 
all persons in the world, apprentices are apt 
to be the most destitute of books, when left to 
their own resources. How great then the 
importance — how benevolent the object — of 
an institution, which provides a remedy for 
so great a want. 

Apprentices are inclined to read — at least a 
large proportion of them are so — if the means 
are furnished them : as any one may be con- 
vinced, who will step into their library of an 
evening (the only time it is open) ; where he 
will behold the pleasing sight of hundreds of 
boys, from 12 years old and upwards, in hum- 
ble apparel, but all eager to obtain books, and 
warm in their desires for intellectual improve- 
ment. 

There are several other public libraries in 
this city, the largest of which is that belong- 
ing to the New York Historical Society, 
founded in 1809, and containing upwards of 



PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 229 

10,000 volumes. That of the American In- 
stitute, established in 1828, contains about 
3,000 volumes; and that of the Law Institute, 
founded in the same year, upwards of 2,000. 

The Mechanics' Institute, founded in 1831, 
has a library of about 1,200 volumes. One 
work, belonging to this collection, cost $800. 
It is Denon's great work on Egypt, consisting 
of 24 large folio volumes, illustrated with a 
great number of very expensive engravings. 
The other works belonging to this library are 
mostly valuable scientific and literary works, 
particularly calculated for the association to 
which they belong. This institute has an an- 
nual course of lectures, on various subjects 
connected with improvement in science and 
the mechanic arts. 

These are the principal public libraries in 
New York ; and are all of exceeding value 
and importance, both in the materials of 
which they are composed and the objects 
to which they are devoted. But in this latter 
respect — as will be gathered from what we 

have said above — there are none of them that 
20 



230 PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 

we think of such high importance as those of 

the apprentices and the clerks : inasmuch as 

these afford reading and improvement to those 

who could not well obtain them by other 

means; besides furnishing an inducement to 

the avoidance of evil company, and to the 

cultivation of habits of correct thought and' 
useful study. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

HOAXES. 

This world is all a fleeting show, 
For man's illusion given. — Moore. 

The citizens of New York possess, in com- 
mon with those of other cities and with the 
world in general, a pretty large portion of 
that species of intellectual weakness called 
hoaxability. People of all sorts and in all 
countries, from ancient down to modern times, 
seem to have invited deception — to have 
given it a hearty welcome — to have been fond 
of it, as of their daily food. 

Some hoaxes — if we may so call that par- 
ticular species of deception — have been played 
off, from good motives and for useful purposes. 
Such was that of Numa Pompilius, the wise 
and good king of Rome, in relation to his pre- 
tended intercourse with the goddess Egeria ; 



232 HOAXES. 

whereby he greatly softened the rude natures, 
improved the morals, and polished the man- 
ners of his semi-barbarous subjects. Other 
lawgivers, in the first institutions of society, 
have also practiced deceptions, as well fdr the 
benefit, as for the more convenient manage- 
ment, of the people : pretending to derive 
their information and their authority directly 
from heaven. 

For a like purpose of governing the popu- 
lace, but not always with equally commend- 
able motives, the priests have played off their 
hoaxes,not only among the pagans of antiquity, 
but likewise among the christians of more 
modern times. Hence the pretended miracles 
and prodigies with which the world has been 
filled, and the multitude deceived and led astray. 

Hoaxes, as we have them in very modern 
times, are the result of diiTerent motives. Some 
of them are practiced for the purpose of good- 
natured sport, or innocent deception ; but far 
the larger number are got up for the purpose 
of making money — of picking the pockets of 
the credulous. Such, for the most part, are 



HOAXES. 233 

all the notable inventions of quack medicines 
the "drops," the "pills," the ''balms," the 
"balsams," and the thousand "infallible 
specifics," with which the world is filled ; and 
such are the puffs, and advertisements, and 
certificates of cures, with which they are re- 
(Commended to the public. 

A great city affords a very rich field for the 
lioaxer's harvest. There are abundant mate- 
rials to be wrought upon. Folly, credulity, 
and ignorance are rife. The hoaxability is 
catching. And, provided it be skilfully and 
prudently managed, will continue to prevail 
very much in proportion to the number and 
density of the population. 

The chief hoaxes that have for some years 
been played, in New York— and the only ones 
deserving of particular notice— are the great 
Joice Heth hoax and the great Moon hoax. 
These were both " brought out," as they say 
of a new piece at the theatre and a new miss 
in good society — in the summer of 1835. 

The inventor of the Joice Heth affair was, 
originally, a Connecticut Yankee. He first 
20* 



234 HOAXES. 

taught a school ; but finding that not suffici- 
ently agreeable, or not sufficiently lucrative, 
he next turned his attention to law, which he 
practiced for a while in the interior of this 
state. Not finding the law, any more than 
teaching, quite suited to his peculiar genius 
and taste, he resolved to bring himself before 
the people in a more imposing light. He saw 
that the multitude were ignorant and gullible, 
fondof rare sights, and marvellous exhibitions 
Hereon he laid his plan. 

Finding, very fortunately, in one of the 
slave-holding states, a miserable piece of frail 
mortality, in the shape of an old female negro, 
who had been blind and bedridden for many 
years ; he purchased, or by some means took 
her off the hands of her owner, or of the pub- 
lic, to whom she had long been a burden. 

But miserable and worthless as she was, for 
all the valuable purposes of life, old Joice 
was the very thing her new proprietor wanted. 
A hale young negro would not have suited 
his design. It was not only requisite that she 
should be withered and old ; but that her age 



HOAXES. 235 

should appear to have surpassed that of any 
person since the days of the patriarchs. To 
favor this part of the hoax, her bodily appear- 
ance and infirmities were excellently fitted. 
Her nails were especially calculated to pro- 
mote the deception ; having, through her 
long- blindness and infirmity, not been pared 
for many years, until they had grown out to 
the length and shape of eagles' claws. 

A hundred and sixty years, and upwards, 
were fixed upon to constitute her age. But 
a piece of African mortality, even of that ex- 
cessive age, would excite comparatively little 
interest, unless some other extraordinary cir- 
cumstance should be connected with her his- 
tory. And here the ingenuity of the inventor 
was exhibited in a remarkable degree, in con- 
necting the name of Washington with that of 
old Joice Heth. To make her the nurse of 
George Washington, was the ne plus ultra of 
skilful invention. What ! to have carried in 
her arms and nourished at her breast the fa- 
ther of his country, the idol and the glory of 
the American people ! She was, indeed, 



236 HOAXES. 

somewhat old for a nurse — being nearly sixty 
when Washington was born. But that was 
not to be helped, for two very good reasons : 
in the first place, nothing less than one hun^- 
dred and sixty years would do for her age ; 
and in the second, no other man's nurse would 
carry with her such a halo of glory as the 
nurse of Washington. Besides a discrepancy 
— an anachronism — of twenty or thirty years 
is nothing, in cooking up a great hoax — - 
where the very magnitude of the whole de^ 
ception prevents people from scanning very 
minutely its several parts. 

Being so well provided for, in personal ap^ 
pearance, in age, and in honorable connec- 
tions ; the next and the only remaining re- 
quisite, to make a proper heroine out of the 
miserable old Joice, was to furnish her with a 
due stock of piety. It would not do for the 
nurse of George Washington to be less than 
pious — and very eminently and devoutly so. 
She was therefore made a member of the 
church ; not indeed of the Episcopal and fa- 
vorite church of Washington — but of the 



HOAXES. ' 237 

Baptist — which having more members than 
any other in the United States, it was thought 
would turn out the most projfitable. 

The only remaining requisite now was. to 
prepare vouchers as to the genuine age of old 
Joice : and to instruct her properly in all the 
lessons ofdeception, piety and church-member- 
ship included. This was a somewhat difficult 
task : for Joice was old, stupid, obstinate, and 
hard to learn. She had, besides, a dreadful 
habit of swearing, which militated very much 
against her piety. It was with great difficulty 
she could be cured of this profane habit; 
which was inclined every now and then, to 
break out long after her character for piety 
was established, and required the utmost at- 
tention of her keepers properly to restrain and 
hold in due subjection. 

After much instruction and many rehear- 
sals, old Joice was at length prepared for ex- 
hibition. The pulse of the public, we believe, 
was first felt at Cincinnati. Finding it beat 
well for the project in that distant extremity, 
the inventor drew nearer to the heart. He 



238 HOAXES. 

tried Philadelphia. There he began to be as- 
tonished at his own success. The manufac- 
tured certificates were published, and every 
body believed in their genuineness ; for who 
could doubt a long list of certificates, signed 
— actually signed — with men's names ? The 
newspapers were hoaxed, and in their turn 
helped to hoax the public. 

The fame of old Joice Heth — the pious 
Joice — the almost antedeluvian Joice — the 
nurse of Washington himself — quickly reached 
New York. People were all agog to behold 
so wonderful a sight. They were all eager to 
partake of so very delicate a dish — cooked up 
with such amazing skill to suit the popular 
palate. In due time they were gratified. New 
York was too large and too rich a field not to 
be made the principal scene of the grand de- 
ception. 

Arrived here, the miserable piece of bed- 
ridden mortality was visited by all classes. 
The papers were filled with her excessive age, 
her devout piety, her interesting connection 
with the family of Washington. Old Joice 



HOAXES. 239 

Heth was in every body's mouth. They 
talked for a while of nothing else. The 
Italian opera^the theatre in general — even 
the weather itself — was forgotten. The first 
question was, "Have you seen Joice Heth?" 
If the reply were no, then came the rejoinder, 
*' What ! not seen Joice Heth 1 I wonder at 
you. Every body goes to see old Joice."— 
" Do you believe she is so very old as they rep- 
resent V — " Oh, yes, I hav'nt the least doubt 
in the world of it. And then she's so very 
pious, you can't think !" 

After plucking the pigeons well in this city, 
the proprietor of old Joice carried his exhibi- 
tion eastward. Boston and some of the minor 
cities of New England were gratified with the 
sight ; and to do justice to their taste, intelli- 
gence and gullibility, they swallowed the hoax 
with as much apparent relish as the good city 
of New York. 

But it is not our business to follow old Joice 
and her spiritual father, manufacturer, and 
exhibitor through all their movements. Suf- 
fice it to say, they returned to New York, as 



240 HOAXES. 

the great central station, strong hold, and most 
profitable scene of gullibility. Here they 
flourished again, with nearly as much vigor as 
before. 

But, alas ! for the instability of all human 
things ! A negro, one hundred and sixty 
years old, could not live always. Death, who 
had so long held his hand, was now standing 
near and aiming his dart at poor old Joice. 
Quite needless, one would think, to bring any 
weapons with him to take away the small re- 
mains of her miserable life. 

However, there death was ; and the pro- 
prietor began to be mightily alarmed for the 
stability of his gains. Had she only lived a 
couple of summers more, he would have been 
willing to part with her. He implored her to 
live for his sake. He thought it was very un- 
fair on her part — nay, it was " pesky" un- 
grateful — after all the pains he had taken in 
teaching her, polishing her, making her pious, 
and adding seventy years to her age — that she 
should desert him after this fashion. He 
moreover did his best, by careful nursing and 



HOAXES. 241 

keeping her warm, to make her winter over ; 
in hopes that if she could only see the warm 
spring again, she would flourish for one more 
summer at least. 

But it was not in the power of human 
means to preserve the wretched invalid. The 
last spark of life went out : and old Joice 
Heth, who had made so much noise for one 
little year, was nothing but a corpse. 

Here, it might have been expected, the ex- 
hibition would end. But, with an economy 
deserving the highest admiration, the proprie- 
tor resolved, that, though dead, silent, and 
cold, Joice should yet figure to some purpose. 
The doctors were called in, and a public dis- 
section took place, to which the people—the 
still unsatisfied people—were admitted in 
crowds, by paying a fee. And here ended 
the profits and the hoax together. 

An account was published, in the papers of 
the appearances, of the body of old Joice on 
dissection ; by which appearances it was in- 
ferred that she was not above half as old as 
she had been represented : a conclusion to 
21 



242 HOAXES. 

which the public — at least a part of it — had 
arrived, sometime before her death. And as 
the number of doubters was every day increas- 
ing, it is probable the poor old creature did 
not die any too soon, for her own quiet, or the 
peace, the interest, and the security of her 
exhibitor : for though the people are wonder- 
fully fond of being gulled, they are apt to be 
greatly enraged, if they find out the decep- 
tion ; and will sometimes proceed to take 
summary vengeance on their deceivers. 

It now remains for us to say something of 
the other great hoax, for which the summer 
of '35 was remarkable. Perhaps we ought 
to beg pardon of the ingenious author of the 
" Moon Story," for placing it in the same 
chapter with the above villanous deception. 
There is no resemblance between them, ex- 
cept in name — the one as well as the other — 
the innocent fiction of the discoveries in the 
moon, as well the pickpocket deception of 
the withered old negress, having been charac- 
terized as a hoax. 

The account of the great lunar discoveries. 



HOAXES. 243 

written by Richard Adams Locke— now 
editor of the New Era — first appeared in the 
Sun. It purported to be taken from an 
English periodical, to which it had been 
communicated by a friend of Sir John F. W. 
Herschell, the great astromoner, by whom the 
discoveries were represented to have been 
made, at the Cape of Good Hope. And 
herein consisted the hoax. Without the use 
of a veritable name, and that of a man well 
known as a distinguished astronomer, the de- 
ception could not have succeeded to any 
remarkable extent ; and those, who at first 
believed the account, could not justly say, on 
finding out their mistake, that they had been 
hoaxed. 

The diameter of Sir John's telescope ap- 
peared to the reader surprisingly large. But 
then they recollected how great was the size 
of the telescope of Dr. William Herschell, 
even in the last century. They remembered 
how George HI., a stout man, was said to 
have travelled through that instrument, from 
one end to the other. They bore in mind the 



244 HOAXES. 

wonderful changes and improvements, since 
the last century. If a very great king — it 
v^'as naturally argued — could walk, with very 
little stooping, through the telescope of Dr. 
William Herschell, in the 18th century : it 
was not at all surprising that the telescope of 
Sir John Herschell, in the nineteenth, should 
be of sufficient diameter for six tall men to 
stand up in it, erect, upon one another's 
heads. 

Another thing, which also appeared quite 
surprising, was the minuteness with which the 
animals, the plants, and even the quality of 
the minerals, was described. But when they 
recollected the wonderful magnitude and 
power of Sir John's telescope, all difficulties 
in regard to minuteness of discovery van- 
ished. 

The most startling thing of the whole was 
the winged people. Nothing like them had 
been seen on the earth. But that, they 
argued, was no rule for the moon. Mankind 
might as well be provided with wings uj) there^ 
as birds, and bats, and insects, with wings 



HOAXES. 245 

down here' The moon, said they, was a sep- 
arate government — independent in its modes 
of life and its fashions of things — and was no 
more obliged to resemble this ball of earth, 
in the make of its inhabitants, than this ball 
of earth was to resemble the moon in the 
same point. 

The winged people, therefore, being swal- 
lowed, there remained no obstacle to the be- 
lief of the entire discoveries. The credulity 
was general. All New York rang with the won- 
derful discoveries of Sir John Herschell. 
Every body read the Sun, and every body 
commented on its surprising contents. There 
were, indeed, a few sceptics ; but to venture 
to express a doubt of the genuineness of the 
great lunar discoveries, was considered almost 
as heinous a sin as to question the truth of 
revelation. 

Nor Was it only among the populace in 

general, that the moon story was believed. 

Certain of the sixpenny editors also gave into 

it, and copied the account, with flaming no- 

21* 



246 HOAXES. 

tices of the very wonderful and important dis- 
cov^eries of Sir John Herschell, at the Cape 
of Good Hope. The papers in this city, 
which were thus caught, were the Daily Ad- 
vertiser and the Mercantile Advertiser. 
The Daily Advertiser of Newark, and the 
Daily Gazette of Albany, were also among 
the ready believers of the great discoveries. 
How many papers, in other places, swallowed 
the hoax, we do not know. Most of the edi- 
tors, we believe, prudently kept their minds 
suspended as to the truth or falsehood of the 
account ; though most of them copied it, as a 
capital story, whether it should turn out true 
or false. 

The sensation, among the people of New 
York, during the publication of the great lu- 
nar discoveries — which occupied something 
like a week — was wonderful. They not only 
bought the papers, read them, and treasured 
up their contents, but they likewise readily 
paid twenty-five cents for a wood-cut, repre- 
senting the winged people, and other striking 
objects in the moon. 



HOAXES. 247 

This hoax, as we have said, could hardly 
have succeeded to any extent, had it not been 
backed with the name of Sir John Herschell, 
accompanied with the known circumstance of 
his location at the Cape of Good Hope. But 
it must be confessed that the story is managed 
with remarkable skill ; and told with a gravity 
of countenance and a versimilitude, worthy of 
Dean Swift himself. 

Many persons upon discovering that they 
had been deceived, were outrageously angry 
with the author and the publisher of the story. 
Such a villanous hoax, they said, ought to be 
severely punished ; the Sun office ought to be 
mobbed ; the moon story burnt by the com- 
mon hangman ; and the wicked deceivers 
suspended on the gibbet of everlasting indig- 
nation. But men of more sense and taste 
enjoyed the story with great relish ; and con- 
sidered it the very best romance they had read 
for many a year. Some persons, however, 
continued a long time to believe in the truth 
of the discoveries ; and even to this day have 
not, so far as we know, .entirely abandoned 
their faith. 



CHAPTER XXIL 

HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

Take this at least, this last advice, my son : 
Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on. 

Translation of Ovid. 

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels. — Cowper. 

Who it was, that first invented wheel car- 
riages, we do not recollect ever having read ; 
or if we have, we have forgotten. Phoebus, 
we learn, in very early times was a famous 
whip. He drove the chariot of the sun, and 
we suppose is driving it still. His son Phae- 
ton, emulous of his father's glory, insisted 
upon trying his hand at the reins. He pre- 
tended, indeed, to doubt, whether he was his 
father's own son ; and would not be con- 
vinced unless Phcebus, as a proof of his father- 
ly affection, would promise to grant him what- 
ever he should ask. Phoebus made the pro- 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 249 

mise, and, to render it more binding, swore 
by Sfyx — a terrible oath, which the gods them- 
selves dare not violate. But as soon as his 
son informed him of the nature of his request, 
Phoebus repented of his lash promise. He 
tried to persuade him to ask something less 
dangerous than driving his horses. He told 
him that even Jove himself could'nt managfe 
such a team. But the youth persisted ; and 
the unhappy father, by reason of his oath, 
was obliged to comply. 

He undertook, in the best manner he could, 
to instruct his son in the proper management 
of his team. He pointed out to him the 
proper road. It was on that occasion, if we 
may believe master Ovid, that he made that 
prudent, non-committal speech, so often 
quoted : 

medio tutissimus ibis ; 

Which, with the context, is thus translated by 
Addison : 

The horses hoofs a beaten track will show: 
But neither mount too high, nor sink too low. 



250 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

That no new fjres or heaven or earth infest, 
Keep the mid way : the middle way is best. 

Thus instructed, the youth mounted the 
chariot, seized the reins, and dashed away. 
At first he thought it fine sport to drive his 
father's horses. But in a little time he had 
occasion to repent of his undertaking. It was 
not so easy an affair as he had supposed. He 
soon began to get into difficulty. He forgot 
his parent's instructions, and drove any where 
but in the " middle way." Now he went too 
high ; then again too low. By the first mis- 
take he played the mischief with the stars : by 
the second he set fire to the earth : by which, 
among other direful effects, he burnt all the 
people of Africa black ; which color they 
have retained ever since. 

Jupiter, seeing the earth all in a blaze, seized 
a thunderbolt, and hurling itatthe unfortunate 
Phaeton, struck him from his chariot, and 
laid him dead on the spot : a solemn warning 
to all ambitious young men, to beware of peri- 
lous enterprises ; and above all not to under- 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 251 

take to drive a spirited team of horses, until 
they have first learned how. 

Jehu the son of Nimshi, who made himself 
king of Israel, was a famous coachman. At 
least he drove furiously, and, so far as we know, 
without upsetting. Achilles, the Grecian hero, 
was also a remarkable whip ; of which he 
gave a most unworthy proof, when he drag- 
ged at his chariot, the body of poor Hector, in 
sight of his own father and mother : 

Proud on his car the insulting victor stood, 
And bore aloft his arms distilling blood. 
He smites the steeds ; the rapid chariot flies ; 
The sudden clouds of circling dust arise. 

Other great men, who have succeeded 
wonderfully in leading, driving, and govern- 
ing men, have felt a strong desire to try their 
hand at managing a team of horses. Such 
was the ambition of Oliver Cromwell ; and 
such that of Napoleon. Each, as their bio- 
graphers inform us, undertook to drive, four 
in hand ; and each, upsetting his carriage and 
being thrown from the box, came very near 
losing his life. Which proves, that managing 



252 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

horses, and managing men, are two things ; 
and that a very skilful general may make a very 
awkward coachman. 

How ill soever some of these have succeed- 
ed, that must surely be an honorable employ- 
ment, in which generals, kings, and gods have 
delighted to try their hands. Ladies have 
also been emulous — and some of them are 
still emulous — of the glorious deeds of your 
renowned whips. They are fond of lifting 
the lash, of shaking the reins, and of manag- 
ing their own steeds. And it must be con- 
fessed, they have succeeded quite as well as 
either Cromwell or Napoleon. 

The use of hackney coaches is compara- 
tively, of recent date. So late as the time 
of Dr. Johnson, who died in 1784, there 
"were in London as he somewhere states, 
not above ten of these carriages. Now, ac- 
cording to a recent work, it appears that 
there are about 600. 

The first hack, started in New York, as we 
are informed, was in the year 1792, by Ga- 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 253 

briel W. Alston. Whereabouts he kept his 
stand, or how many coaches he had, we do 
not know. 

The number of hackney coaches in New 
York, at the present time, is upwards of 200 : 
a number twice as great, in proportion to the 
population, as that of London. These coaches 
are taxed $5 each for their yearly license, 
besides a dollar for the coachman. The 
prices for carrying passengers, as fixed by law, 
are : for any distance, not exceeding a mile, 
37^ cents ; and for each additional passeno-er 
25 cents. For any distance over one mile 
and not exceeding two the fare is 50 cents; and 
for each additional passenger 25 cents. For 
children between two and fourteen years of 
age, the price is 50 per cent less. For a car- 
riage to Harlem, and back, with the privilege 
of remaining three hours, the price is $4 ; to 
King's Bridge, remaining all day, $5. The 
price per day for a hack, driven in any direc- 
tion, is $5. In each of these last cases, the 
fare is the same, whether there be a single 
passenger, or whether the coach be full. -For 
22 



254 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

attending a funeral within the lamp and watch 
district, the price is $2 ; to Potter's Field, $3, 

The above include the principal rates of 
fare, as fixed by law ; though there are some 
others for different distances, not here named ; 
but which the reader may find, with other 
useful information in the Strangei's City Guide, 
published by Disturnell, price three shillings. 

It is common enough to say of such and 
such a person, " he is an honest man, well 
looUd after:' So it may be said, in general, 
of the hackney coachmen, they are honest 
fellows, as the world goes ; but they require 
close— very close— looking after. Not that 
they will pick your pocket, or steal your bag- 
gage. They will only charge you twice or 
thrice as much fare as the law allows. For 
carrying you a mile, price three shillings, they 
will only charge you a dollar ; and possibly, 
in a clear, dull day, content themselves with 
seventy five cents. And so on, for greater 

distances. 

If you undertake to make a bargain with 
them; they are almost sure to ask you more 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 255 

than the legal price ; taking it for granted, of 
course, that you are ignorant of the rates. 
The better way, if you want a carriage, is to 
jump into the best looking one — attached to 
the best horses — with the soberest driver you 
can conveniently find. Bid him drive where- 
ever you wish to go ; and, when you alight, 
say nothing about the fare, but merely offer 
him what the law allows. If he will not take 
it, concern yourself no further about him. 
But if it is not convenient for you to tender 
him the precise fee, and he gives you the 
wrong change, take the number of his carriage 
and go at once to the Police Office, where 
justice will be speedily done you. 

The penalty for a hackney coachman de- 
manding more than the legal rates, is the for- 
feiture of his whole fare, and a fine of $10. 
The fine is the same for refusing — when he is 
not otherwise engaged — to carry a passenger 
any where on the island of New York — the 
legal fee being tendered. 

Every passenger is entitled to have carried 
with him, free of expense, one trunk, valise, 



256 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

carpet-bag, portmanteau, box, basket, or 
bundle ; but, for every additional article of 
the like kind, he must pay sixpence, if not 
exceeding a mile ; and a shilling, if over that 
distance. 

Rainy days are the harvest times for the 
hackmen. They eye the clouds with as 
much anxiety as so many ducks ; and rejoice, 
like them, in a long and copious shower. 
Nothing is so dull — nothing so discouraging 
to them — as a melancholy time of fair weather. 
No class of persons in this city — not even 
those who are paid for it in the pulpit — it is 
believed, pray so often and so devoutly for 
rain as the hackney coachmen.* 

It is remarked by English journalists, that 

* We ought perhaps to except the Umbrella makers ; 
whose gains are still more dependent on falling weather, 
than those of the hackmen. We copy, from a city news^ 
paper, the following : 

UMBRELLA MAKERS' PRAYER. 

O thou, who mak'st all trades thy care, 

And guard'st them every hour, 
Come, listen to our humble prayer, 

And grant the frequent shower. 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 257 

our hacks and horses are much superior to 
those in London. The coaches are well 
enough ; and, indeed, for the most part 
handsome, and in excellent repair. The 
horses are also, in general, very fair, for hacks. 
They are much improved within a few years. 
They are handsomer, more spirited, and bet- 
ter fed. Not longer ago than 1830, it used 
to be waggishly said of the hack horses, that 
they were "fed on flour barrels, and the 

We ask no golden streams to cast 

Their riches on our shore ; 
Mere drops of water — faUing fast — 

Are all that we implore. 

Oft as the gloomy shades of night 

O'erspread our closing eyes, 
We pray, that with the dawning light, 

Far other shades may rise. 

Our moderate wishes would not grow 

To crave one blessing more, 
Than we may ask or thou bestow 

From thy unfailing store. 

We would not of our lot complain, 

Nor discontent betray; 
We only beg thee, let it rain 

But every other day. 

22* 



258 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

hoops showed through the skin." At present 
they are not, by many degrees, so ostenta- 
tiously ribbed. 

From hacks we must ascend to omnibuses. 
We say ascend, because, although fewer steps 
are required to get into them, they are never- 
theless, for the most part, superior in magni- 
tude and in the number of steeds, to the hack- 
ney coaches. This kind of vehicle first got 
the name of omnibus in London, and that not 
much more than a dozen years since. It is a 
Latin word, signifying to all or with all : and 
was doubtless given to one of these lumbering 
coaches, because they are open to all, carry 
all, and are crowded withal. 

The first New York stage we hear any ac- 
count of, was started in the year 1732, to run 
between this city and Boston. It left each of 
these places only once a month, and took 
fovrteen days to perform the journey. Such 
was the rapidity of travelling a hundred and 
five years ago ! 

The first stage, that ran merely on the 
island, was started, in the year 1798, by Bar- 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 259 

nard de Klyne. He ran from Wall street to 
Greenwich — or " the village" — which was 
then separate from the settlements on the 
south part of the island. 

Klyne, so far as we can learn, had but a 
single carriage, which, in beauty and lightness, 
very much resembled the stages, or mail wag- 
gons, which now run irom this city to Long 
Island. He ran at no particular hour, or 
hours ; but started whenever he could §et 
passengers. 

To Klyne, previous to the year 1826, suc- 
ceeded a large number of other owners. 
From these frequent changes, we conclude 
the concern was not so profitable as could be 
desired. In the latter year succeeded Asa 
Hall, who made an improvement in his car- 
riages, by changing the entrance, from the 
front or side, to the back part. 

Stages were next started in Broadway; the 
owners of which made improvements over the 
Greenwich lines, in the size and beauty of 
their carriages, and in the number of horses. 
It was not until about the year '30, or '31, 



260 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

that four horses began to be attached to the 
city stages. 

These conveniences now run to the Bow- 
ery, to the Dry Dock, and to several other 
parts of the city. There are, in all the lines 
that run to and from Wall street, upwards of 
120 carriages. Besides these, several run 
from the Bowery to Yorkville, to Harlem, &c. 
The number of omnibuses in London, is 
about 400 ; which is a less number than ours 
in proportion to the population, by about 50 per 
cent. But then there are, in London, about 
1200 cabriolets — or cabs, as they are usually 
called — to which we have nothing answering 
on this side the Atlantic. 

The four-horse stages pay a licence of $20 ; 
the two- horse, $10. The fare generally 
throughout the city is 12 J cents. To Yorkville 
it is 181 cents; to Harlem and to Manhattan- 
ville, 25 cents. A deduction of one third is 
made from these prices, where a dozen, or 
even half a dozen tickets are purchased at 
once. The number of persons, who take the 
benefit of the omnibuses, is believed to aver- 



HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 261 

age not less than 25,000 per day, Sundays ex- 
cepted, when the horses are allowed to rest. 

As these carriages run on certain fixed 
routes, there is never any occasion for dispute 
about the price. You give the attendant lad, 
or the driver, your shilling or your ticket, 
"and there an end." These stages are of 
very great convenience — nay, almost of ne- 
cessity. Accustomed, as people are, to jump 
into an omnibus whenever they have half a 
mile, or more, of locomotion to perform, and 
wish to do it speedily, they would hardly know 
how to get along, without them. They are par- 
ticularly convenient for merchants and others 
doing business in the lower part of the city, 
and living in the upper part. After staying 
till three o'clock to settle their money affairs 
in Wall street, they would be late to dinner, 
were they obliged to foot it a mile or two ; 
and most of them would not like to pay from 
three to four shillings for coach hire. 

The dining hour being from twelve to three, 
it is between those two periods that the stages 
*— the homeward bound ones— are most apt 



262 HACKS AND OMNIBUSES. 

to be crowded. Indeed, during the whole 
space of those three important hours, it is ex- 
ceedingly difficult to get a seat. You may 
sometimes stand at the corner of a street, 
beckoning to all the stages that pass for half 
an hour, and not one of them has a seat to 
give you. The best way, on such occasions, 
is to march leisurely, but steadily on ; and 
you will probably arrive at your journey's end 
much sooner than you can get a stage to carry 
you there, and save your shilling into the 
bargain. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 

CONCLUSION. 
'Tis done .' — Thomson. 

Dr. Johnson heads his last chapter of Rasselas 
with " The conclusion, in which nothing* is con- 
cluded." Now, however strong the tempta- 
tion to imitate the example of so great a man, 
we have concluded, that our conclusion shall 
not be altogether so inconclusive. 

The conclusion, naturally to be drawn from 
the foregoing pages, is, that New York is a 
very great city ; a very populous city ; a very 
expensive city; a very scarce-of- hotels city; a 
remarkably religious city ; a sadly overrun- 
with-law-and-physic city ; a surprisingly news- 
paperial city ; a rather queerly governed city; 
an uncommon badly watered city ; a very 
considerable of a rum city; a very full-of-fires 
city ; a pretty tolerably well-hoaxed city : 



264 CONCLUSION. 

and, moreover, a city moderately abounding ini 
foul streets, rogues, dandies, mobs, and several] 
other things, concerning which it is not ne- 
cessary to come to any specific conclusion. 



END 



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